


The Wars we fight (Sintero's fic)

by Staubengel



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 45,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/pseuds/Staubengel
Summary: This is a fic based on an AU idea by my lovely Wade. She requested "Kree forces invade Earth; Non-abducted!Peter is the head of the resistance."I hope she will like it and that the other readers will enjoy it as well! :)





	1. The Resistance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sintero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintero/gifts).



The invasion had started three years ago.

Suddenly an entire fleet of miles-long space-ships had appeared in the sky; black, archaic-looking monstrosities with twisted wings and a trace of black smoke behind them. The Kree.

Humanity had ever so quickly learned that _Independence Day_ or _War of the Worlds_ were nothing but jokes compared to what an alien invasion really looked like. These aliens were no absurd tentacle monsters with nothing but the desire to kill and conquer. These aliens were humanoid, immensely strong, heavily armed and in the middle of a war. They had come here to use Earth as their base, to exploit its resources for their troops and warfare – and to not let it be their own planet that got destroyed by hostile bomb fire.

Within months the blue race of warlords had taken over Earth completely, their advanced weapons and technology beating down the NATO, the Armed Forces, the National Guard, the entire military of every country, everything. In their absolute despair, several governments had even tried to nuke those ships out of the sky. But the bombs had been shot down without doing any damage at all. Every act of self-defence had been suppressed, every rebellion had been weeded out. The Kree were no race to mess with.

Humanity had basically been enslaved, working in factories, on fields, and in mines to produce weapons and armoury and provide food for their new masters. Whoever dared to speak up was killed on the spot. Kree weren't exactly considerate.

  
  


Things looked pretty hopeless for humanity, to be honest. The governments had been shut down, the military was beaten, everyone was under watch. The Kree seemed indestructible, there was nothing Earth had to offer to face them. Still, there was the Resistance.

The Resistance consisted of people who had managed to flee from the invaders and had avoided being enslaved. They hid in the mountains, the woods, or the catacombs, wherever it was safe for a while.

Of course, the Kree were searching for them, but only sporadically. They were too busy with their war and with taking care of their slaves to bother much. The Resistance annoyed them, but they weren't afraid it could do serious damage. What bothered them was that there were people so much as _daring_ to fight against them. It planted a sense of rebellion and self-defence in the heads of the Terrans and that made things complicated and extensive. So whenever a member of the Resistance was caught, they were executed publicly to show the enslaved race that it was better to obey and just play along. When the war was over, the Kree would leave Earth alone again, so why try and fight them? They weren't interested in this planet in the long term. That they would leave it completely destroyed, exploited, and ruined was, of course, kept quiet. But everyone knew it. Still, fear and the hope that it _could_ be that easy made most people compliant.

  
  


The Resistance was small and had it in fact hard to even do something. Many people who had managed to escape just wanted to live their lives in peace, they didn't necessarily want to fight. And the few who stood together, what could they do against an enemy who seemed entirely invincible?

The only ones who seemed to be able to do real damage to them were the ones the Kree were fighting this war against. So the only option was to somehow make them win this war. For that, the Resistance had worked out a plan for many months now. It was rather simple, but just as dangerous and unlikely to work out. But it seemed to be their only chance: Get into the base, steal the strategic plans from the Kree, steal one of their pods, and deliver the plans to their enemies, trading them for the promise to be freed from the Kree invasion and helped to recover.

Of course, much could go wrong. They could get caught or killed while sneaking into the base and stealing the plans. They could get caught or killed on their way out. The same could happen when they tried to steal the ship. And even if they managed to get both, maybe the Kree's enemies would shoot them down because of their camouflage, confusing them with an actual Kree pod. And who said they would even agree to help the humans? Maybe they would just blow up Earth altogether, hoping to destroy the Kree in the process. Maybe they didn't even care at all about humanity.

It was incredibly risky. But what other chance did the Resistance have? They couldn't possibly destroy the Kree themselves. They were too many and too strong and the Resistance was too small and too weak. They really couldn't do anything by themselves.

Except for waiting and hoping. Just like the rest of humanity. And they all agreed that they didn't want to do that.

  
  


Peter Quill stood quietly on the top of the little hill while all around him people called requests and orders and hurried in and out of the cave behind him to move supplies, food, and weapons. It was late evening, the sun already setting, and the sky was dark grey, except for the horizon where the sun was still bathing it in orange and gold. A cool breeze ruffled his hair, but his red leather jacket kept him warm. He had had it with him when he had fled from the invasion. Now it had become the trademark of the head of the Resistance.

They had quickly elected Peter as their leader. He was witty, smart and extremely charismatic. But most of all he was a rebel and that was what the Resistance needed the most. There was nothing Peter Quill wouldn't do to gain back freedom and independence for Earth, and that was why everyone was following him willingly. Even when the mission was so unlikely to be a success.

They were currently preparing the infiltration of the strategic base to steal the plans. Of course, Peter would lead it, he always was right in the front line when there was a mission. In the past years, he had already managed to get two Kree warships out of the sky, steal several weapons and supplies, free an entire factory of human slaves and hack the Kree's messaging channel so they could overhear some of their plans and conversations. Of course, the Kree language was foreign to them, but the invaders had installed translators everywhere and had implanted one into every captive's neck as well. The Resistance had stolen some of them (and some of them in bloody and unappetising ways...) and Peter wore one in his ear wherever he went. By now he had gotten used to the feeling, but he couldn't wait for the day when the altered hearing aid device would finally leave his ear forever.

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air smelled different since the Kree were here, he thought. More metallic. Normally autumn air smelled fresh and clean up here in the hills. So much was different now in a way Peter didn't like. But that was why he was fighting, after all.

“Quill,” someone called beside him. Peter opened his eyes and looked down to the foot of the hill. A small man with dark brown hair and a scruff looked back up at him. “We're done with the preparations,” he told his leader. “We can start with the mission.”

Peter nodded. “I'm coming,” he replied. “Tell the folks to get ready and gather them on the Surface. I'll be there in a second.” The man nodded too and disappeared.

Peter let his gaze wander over the land before him one last time. In the distance, black spots covered the sky where the Kree ships hovered over the planet. His planet. His home.

“Time for you to fuck off,” Peter murmured to himself and clenched his fists. “Time for us to kick your asses.” With that he slid down the hillside and made his way over to the large, even platform a few feet up the mountain that they called the Surface.

A handful of members had gathered there, all geared up and ready to follow Peter on the mission that might either save or destroy them all. Their leader smiled as he saw them. He had known exactly who would volunteer for this mission when they had planned it. Over the years a group had formed in the Resistance that worked together on basically every mission, no matter how dangerous or risky. They were the best of the best and they had survived all the odds because they always had each other's backs. Peter felt a strong bond with them, a bond of love and trust and friendship that was impossible to break. They had become his family up here and he knew he could rely on them in every situation. If anyone was able to turn this mission into a success, it was them.

“The usual suspects,” he greeted them. “And here I thought I would for once get a team that _works_.”

“Shut your hole, Quill,” the dark-haired man grunted. “If you don't wanna work with us, you can stay home and we'll get this done without you. You know we're better than you anyway.”

Peter laughed and shook his head. “Nice try, Rocket,” he grinned. “But I'm coming with you.”

“Fuck,” the man growled and spit on the ground.

The huge man behind him only rolled his eyes. He hardly ever spoke, but for some reason he and Rocket, who couldn't keep his big mouth shut, were inseparable. They worked together like one man and had known each other long before they had joined the Resistance. Rocket was a bombs and explosives expert who could build _anything_ with nothing more than scrap. He had figured out most of the Kree's tech over the past months and had built even more tech for the Resistance. He had immensely talented fingers that could also work a gun pretty well.

His best buddy Groot was almost twice as large as the tiny, angry tinkerer. His skin was so dark that his well-tanned bestie looked pale against him, and his dreadlocks, decorated with numerous items that were braided or knotted into them, reached all the way down to his hips. He knew plants and herbs like no other, which came in handy here in the wilderness. There always was a mysterious smile playing on his full lips and on first sight he seemed to be a textbook hippie. But when things got dirty, it was better to stay out of his way. He worked his combat sticks deadly well.

The other two members of the little squad were Drax and Gamora and these two were _obviously_ lethal. Drax was packed with muscles and literally tattooed from head to toe. His huge knives were absolutely fatal and since he took everything literally, it was easy to enrage him. He and Rocket got in arguments pretty often, but they just as often got drunk and gambled together and that seemed to keep their friendship alive. Maybe it was just thanks to Groot though that those two hadn't killed each other yet.

And then there was Gamora. She was as beautiful as she was deadly, with her caramel skin and her black hair. It was dyed pink on the lower half, which – together with her net and leather clothes – gave her a fitting rebel look. She was quick and strong and, just like Drax, used big knives to rough her enemies up. She was also the most reasonable of their team (apart from Groot, maybe, but he rarely talked and so it was up to Gamora to keep sanity alive). By now she and Peter were as close as siblings and indeed Gamora often treated Peter like a little, somehow annoying but still beloved brother. He smiled at her as their eyes met and she smirked back, aggressive anticipation making her eyes glisten.

“Alright,” Peter began. “I know I don't have to repeat the plan as you all know it by heart, and I know I don't need to tell you how dangerous and important this mission is.”

“Why are you talking at all then?” Rocket quipped, but nobody paid him any attention, apart from one or two eye rolls.

“So let's just skip the big speech and head out right away. The sooner we get this done, the sooner the Kree will get their asses handed to them. Is everyone ready?”

Rocket bent down to access the pile he had placed to his feet and tossed Peter a gun. “An A class Kree blaster,” he announced. “Complete with Rocket-style pimp-up.”

“I hope it won't explode in my face,” Peter voiced his concern.

Rocket only grinned and tossed him the rest of his equipment: A med pack, a bag of food, a communicator (phones didn't work anymore, as the Kree had shut down all stations. But the Resistance had altered walkie-talkies, phones, and other small gadgets so they worked with the Kree's installed frequencies) and a small knife. As Peter had also stripped his emergency kit with a torch light, a coil of wire and other necessary items to his thigh, he clapped his hands and then placed them on his hips.

“Fighters of the Resistance,” he called loud enough for all their audience to hear, and his voice made clear that he was dead serious now. “All these months we have fought against our tantalisers and have shown them that it's a huge mistake to mess with us. We have sabotaged their plans and wrecked their ships, have stolen their supplies and weaponry, have blown up their bases. But most importantly, we have given our people hope. Hope that all of this will end and that there is someone out there fighting for them. For their home and their freedom, for their lives and their planet. This mission is dangerous and it might get us all killed. But it's the only chance we have to make hope more than just hope, to make it a reality. So we all go out there today and do what we must. The last day of the invasion may be brought to us by what we achieve today. So let's go. Let's do this. Let's kick some blue alien asses!”

He raised his fist in the air and dozens of people around him did the same. Their cheers and shouts filled Peter's heart and gave him all the strength he needed to face this mission.

As he looked everyone of his little team in the eyes, he saw they were just as determined and ready as he was for this. With a nod, Peter turned around and entered the passage that led down the hill. His friends followed behind him, accompanied by the cheerful noise of their comrades staying behind on the Surface.

Their mission had begun. Today they would either save humanity or die a horrible death trying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are edits of the Resistance!Guardians: http://staubengel.tumblr.com/post/155140425199/edits-for-my-new-staraccuser-fic-the-guardians


	2. Searching the Plans

“Fucking hell, I forgot how far away this base was,“ Rocket grumbled as they finally went into hiding behind some bushes surrounding the Kree military area.

“Stop whining,” Gamora groaned. “Or I’ll consider turning you in to the Kree.”

“I’ll greet your sister then,” Rocket offered. Gamora shot him a death glare.

Her sister Nebula (actually they were both adopted, so they were no biological siblings) had joined the Kree forces willingly when they had landed here. Quite a few people had done so, actually, out of various reasons. Some adored the alien species and loved to work as their servants because they were fascinated by them or even thought of them as higher beings. There were even some people who downright worshipped the invaders. Other people thought of it as a strategic advantage to serve the obviously superior race so they would be treated better. Peter had no idea, but he really couldn’t imagine the Kree treating any human in a considerate way.

Nebula, however, had volunteered to help the Kree and Gamora suffered from the decision of her sister. Peter had never asked, but he knew Gamora and Nebula had some rivalry going on that at least on Gamora’s side had vanished the moment her sister had joined the invaders. Now all she wanted was to get Nebula back safely. But that was hard, considering that Nebula apparently didn’t want to come back. No one knew what exactly Nebula did for the Kree, but it either was satisfying enough to stay or she hadn’t managed to escape yet.

“No one is gonna greet anyone and no one is gonna turn anyone in,” Peter determined. “We’ll go in, get the plans, and get out again, like we planned it. This is important, we can’t afford to be distracted by bad feelings towards each other.”

Gamora nodded and let out a sigh. “You’re right.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Rocket grunted as well. That was his way of saying he was sorry.

“Good,” Peter nodded. “I know you’re all going to hate me for it, but I’ll still ask you one more time: What is everyone’s mission?”

“Drax and I will go in first,” Gamora began. “We’ll make sure the access is secure and free and will inform you over the communicators. Once we’re safe inside, you will follow.”

“The two will secure the way we use,” Rocket continued. “Groot and I will deactivate the security system around the main room that will most probably have the plans inside. Then we’ll activate a false alarm to lure everyone out. As soon as we’re certain the room is empty, we’ll enter through the air duct. Like every cliché movie has taught us.”

Peter nodded again “Great,” he said. “As soon as the way is free, I’ll enter the room and snatch the plans. In the meantime, Groot and Rocket will try to seal the room so we will be safe for a couple more minutes. When we have the plans, we will leave the same way we came in. Gamora and Drax will lead to make sure the air is clear. I’ll go in the middle. Rocket and Groot will be last, shutting the air duct again.”

“The way through the building,” Gamora spoke again, “is: turning left after we entered, going nine metres, turning right, going fifteen metres, turning right again, going three metres, turning left again, going twelve metres. Then we will be directly under the air duct.”

“Exactly,” Peter confirmed. “And then crawling down the right until it doesn’t go any further. Alright, guys, that’s it. I trust all of you to know what you’re doing. If anyone can do this, then it’s us. I believe in us. So let’s go in there and kick some blue alien asses to save our planet.”

“Well said,” Drax droned. He probably hated the Kree more than anyone out of their group. They had abducted his wife and daughter who now had to work for them as slaves. Drax had tried to free them more than once, but had always failed. Then he had joined the Resistance, hoping he could somehow defeat the Kree together with them to help his family and the rest of the world.

“Off you go then,” Peter ordered and nodded in the direction of the building they wanted to infiltrate. “Good luck. If something’s off, return here immediately. Don’t try to make it work if it doesn’t.”

Gamora nodded and got up. Drax got on his feet as well and turned around to check the area between their hiding-place and the Kree base. Then he exchanged a glance with Gamora to make sure they were both ready to start. The woman nodded and took a look at her watch. “Half a minute,” she announced.

The route they chose lay in a blind spot. When they stayed on a small path that wasn’t covered by the surveillance cameras, they could make it to the base without being seen or captured by the infrared sensors. The Kree weren’t dumb, they had placed their strategic base very favourably. The only weak spot was the sun. When it set, it was shining directly onto one single spot of the base and was blinding the cameras and disturbing the sensors. The Resistance had spent weeks figuring out the exact time on which it was possible to infiltrate the base this way and today their group had taken advantage of that research.

“Ten,” Gamora began to count down. “Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Now.” Both of them ducked and dashed out of the bushes. From now on they had six minutes and twelve seconds to get to the base, secure their way, call the others, and have them come over to the base as well. Rocket watched them with his field glasses while Peter kept an eye on the watch.

“They’re halfway there,” Rocket told them. “All seems to go well. Would be a bummer if Drax stumbled now. But he doesn’t, all good. Okay aaaand… they’re there. Alright, how much time do they have?”

“Took them 64 seconds,” Peter replied. “So we have five minutes and eight seconds left.”

“Good,” Rocket claimed. “They will need two minutes to secure the way. So we will have a good three minutes to make it over there. Should be enough.”

“Yeah, if all goes well,” Peter muttered. He was so freaking nervous. This was such a risky mission and all of his friends could die if something went wrong. 

They waited in tense silence until finally, Gamora’s voice came crackling through the communicator.

“All secured,” she let them know. “You can come over now.”

“Okay,” Peter whispered and jumped up. “Go, go, go, go, go!”

“Didn’t you hear, Groot,” Rocket joked. “Go!”

Groot shook his head but set in motion and hurried down the path in the blind angle towards the Kree base first. Rocket and Peter followed right after him.

“Alright, we’re in,” Peter informed Gamora over the communicator. “Coming over to the air duct now.”

“Hurry,” Gamora replied. 

“On our way.”

They scurried through the corridors that Gamora and Drax had secured. This part of the building was unofficial, only meant for storage and engineering rooms. No one was here, but they still had to hurry. Someone could come in any time. Drax and Gamora were waiting at different ends of the corridor system to be able to warn the others in time should someone try to enter. Then they would have to hurry even more to not be caught.

It didn’t even take them a minute to get to the spot from which they could climb into the air ducts. Groot let Rocket climb on him to get in, then Peter helped Groot by giving him a leg-up. Groot finally pulled Peter up and then they shut the duct again.

“Okay, I will activate the false alarm now,” Rocket mumbled into his communicator. “Is everyone ready for this?”

“Go for it,” Gamora whispered back. “And hurry. We don’ want to wait here all day.”

“Yeah, yeah. Haste makes waste,” Rocket grunted. He pulled a device out of one of his many pockets and set the right frequency. Then he pushed a button and noise broke lose in the main room they intended to enter. Only the escape of the air duct, which was a grate in the wall, separated the three Resistance members from their destination. 

Rocket crawled over to the grate to peek inside the room. After a moment he turned to his friends and waved for them to come over, too.

“The room is empty now,” he let them know. “There were only two people inside before anyways, but now they’re gone. We’ll open the grate now so we can get in. Ready, Quill?”

Peter nodded. “Ready,” he confirmed.

“Good.” Rocket nodded. “Groot, your turn.”

The African-American man squeezed beside his little friend and reached through the grate with his long fingers to press the sensor that let it swing open. Rocket jumped to the ground first and immediately hurried over to the door to seal it. Groot followed right after him.

Peter jumped down as well and jogged over to the round table in the middle of the room. The Kree used a mixture of archaic looking ground elements and high-tech add-ons which made for a weird combination. Above the surface of the table, a holo screen floated in the air. Some data was listed on it, but after a quick scan Peter realised it was nothing of interest. He had learned to read Kree pretty fast, which came in handy as the leader of the Resistance.

Peter quickly searched the table for the plans they were trying to steal. They had heard the Kree talk about them over the frequency the Resistance was monitoring, so they knew for certain they existed and were somewhere in this building. Most probably in this room, as it was the main conference room for the warfare planning.

Rocket cursed lowly from the door but Peter was too distracted to pay him any attention. He had searched the table and was now on his way to some racks over at the wall. Luckily the room wasn’t too big and there weren’t many opportunities to store important plans.

“Quill,” Rocket called from his spot at the other side of the room. “Quill, someone’s coming.”

Peter hardly registered what he was saying because he was too busy panicking. Where were those plans?! They had to be somewhere around here!

“ _Quill!_ ” Rocket tried again. “We need to get out of here!”

Where were they?!

“Peter.”

Groot’s voice was so rare and unfamiliar to Peter’s ears that it startled him out of his search. He turned around, a questioning look on his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Someone’s coming!” Rocket repeated. “We need to get out!”

“But the plans,” Peter objected. “I haven’t found them yet.”

“Forget about the plans!” the bomb expert hissed. “Someone’s at the door! They’re gonna find us if we don’t leave right now!”

Peter stared at the door, then looked back at the racks.

“ _Quill!_ ”

“Alright, go,” Peter ordered. “Get into the air duct, quick.”

“We’ll all go!” Rocket said hotly. “Come on, Quill, don’t be stupid now!”

“This is maybe our only chance to get those plans,” Peter explained. “I can’t let this slip.”

“If they catch you, we’re all done for!” Rocket snapped. “You’re our leader! They will torture you to find out where we are! If they catch you, not only this mission but the purpose of the entire Resistance has failed!”

“I can’t leave here without the plans,” Peter insisted.

“Goddamnit, I will beat you senseless and _drag_ you into the air duct if I have to!” Rocket threatened.

Peter bit his lower lip. He just couldn’t go. The Resistance would manage without him somehow, but this could be their only chance to save Earth from this invasion.”

“Okay, I’m coming,” he sighed. “Let’s go.”

“Finally!” Rocket sprinted over to the entrance of the air duct, Groot right by his side. The larger male helped his little friend to climb into the duct. Peter was next. Then Groot pulled himself into the narrow tube. 

“Go, go, go,” Peter shooed. “Go.”

“On it!” Rocket barked back and frantically began to crawl towards the plate they had come through. Groot followed right behind him. 

Peter stayed behind, closing the grate. He would just wait here. He would wait until the room was empty again and then he would enter it once more. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip. This was their only chance.

“Quill!” Rocket hissed once more. “Come on now! Or I’ll come and get you!”

Groot had already slipped through the opening and had left the air duct. Rocket was apparently sitting on his shoulders, as his head was still peeking through the hole and he was staring at Peter angrily.

“I swear, I will break your legs and drag you along!” he growled. “Come over here immediately!”

“I can’t,” Peter shook his head. “I need to get those plans. We have no other chance.”

“Okay, this is it, I’m coming to get you,” the bomber snarled. He made an attempt to crawl back into the air duct and Peter instinctively pressed against the grate. He knew how angry Rocket could get, this was not a drill.

But then suddenly noise arose from the corridors, angry growling and yelling. Someone was coming.

Rocket and Peter stared at each other in shock for a second.

“Fuck!” Rocket cursed under his breath. He quickly reached up and grabbed the plate they had loosened to open up the air duct and that was lying right beside the hole. 

“Rocket!” Peter called lowly. “Don’t you dare to –“

But the next moment, Rocket pulled the plate in place and was gone. He had shut the air duct. Peter was now alone in the tube.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you hadn't seen the note I added to the last chapter:  
> http://staubengel.tumblr.com/post/155140425199/edits-for-my-new-staraccuser-fic-the-guardians  
> :)


	3. Improvising

He held his breath and listened. It was hard to tell through the air duct, but he thought he heard more yelling. He had no idea what was going on, but Groot and Rocket most certainly would try to get out of here before the Kree could reach them. The question only was if they would make it in time.

Suddenly Peter’s communicator crackled and he could hear the noises more clearly. One of the others had activated theirs to ensure Peter could hear what was going on. Which was great, because Peter had no clue how to act right now and whether it was safer to stay in here or to try and get away.

What he heard made his heart drop down to his stomach, though. Because, obviously, his friends had been caught. All of them.

“We found another two,” someone said in Kree. “They came from this corridor over there.”

“So four invaders,” another voice stated. “So far.”

“Let us go!” Rocket growled. “I swear, I’ll bite your filthy blue fingers off!”

“Don’t do that,” Gamora advised calmly. “You will get yourself poisoned by that filth.”

“Maybe I’ll poison them in return with _my_ filth!” Rocket grunted.

Then suddenly it became very quiet. That was never a good sign.

Footsteps were to be heard. After they had stopped, it stayed silent for a moment. Then a very dark and calm voice talked, again in Kree.

“Members of the Resistance?” it demanded to know.

A chill ran down Peter’s back. There was something about that voice that brought goosebumps up on his arms and made the fine hairs on his neck go erect. It was loaded with dominance and sublimity oozed from every syllable, automatically making you crouch inside. It was clear that this voice belonged to someone at the top of the food chain.

“Yes, master Ronan,” one of the other Kree answered. “We just captured them. Two were apparently trying to secure the doors to this section while the other two ran straight into our arms, coming from his corridor. We do not know yet what their intentions were.”

Ronan! Holy shit! Peter actually held his breath and felt a knot forming in his stomach.

Ronan the Accuser was the leader of the Kree warfare and therefore of this invasion. He got his orders directly from the Kree Emperor or his subordinates and was the supreme commander here on Earth. Peter had seen him a few times from far away but had never encountered him in any way. To suddenly hear him talk like this was somehow frightening.

“Lock them away,” he ordered. “I will question them later.”

“No, please!” Gamora begged. The tone of her voice shook Peter to the core. He had never heard Gamora sound so fragile and helpless before. “I don’t want to be locked away! I will tell you everything!”

“Don’t be stupid now!” Rocket warned. “They will torture and kill you anyway, you’re part of the Resistance!”

“No,” Gamora pleaded. “I am Nebula’s sister! I only wanted to get to her! Please, I will tell you everything!”

Ronan seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he replied: “Nebula is a capable servant. But that does not mean you would be of the same good use. I will offer you a deal nonetheless: Tell me about your plans and you will not be tortured or executed. If your information is of value, I might even consider telling Nebula she should pay you a visit in your cell. So tell me, what is it you came here for?”

“Don’t tell him!” Rocket growled once more. “He’s only playing with you!”

“The plans,” Gamora admitted. “We were searching for the plans for your next manoeuvre. We wanted to sabotage them, so you would suffer defeat. But we couldn’t find them anywhere. We thought they were in the conference room and climbed in through the air duct, but they weren’t there.”

For a second Peter wondered what the hell had gotten into Gamora, the most strong-minded warrior he had ever seen, to tell Ronan of their plans. But then it hit him, right the moment Ronan replied.

“They are not in the conference room,” he told Gamora. “Do you honestly think I would just leave them lying around?”

“We had no idea where they were,” Gamora claimed. “We would have searched in your private rooms next, assuming you would keep them there.”

“Good thinking,” Ronan acknowledged. “But now it is too late for you. We have caught you and the plans are still in my private chambers. You have failed, Gamora.”

He even knew her name. That was so creepy.

“Take them to the prison cells,” Ronan told his fellow Kree warriors. “All of them. I will take care of them tomorrow.”

Peter set in motion and began to crawl down the air duct as quickly as possible. Gamora was a genius. He now knew where the plans were kept and he also knew where his friends would be brought. He had until tomorrow to get both of them out of here, so he better hurried. There was no way he would let this mission fail or let his friends be publicly executed by the Kree.

Peter didn’t know where the private chambers of Ronan were located, but he had a scanner with him. Rocket had built that together from several different devices and it was able to draw a map on the screen by scanning its surroundings. It was a bit vague and, of course, Peter didn’t know which of the many rooms belonged to Ronan. But he could take a guess from their size and arrangement.

Ronan’s quarters would be the biggest ones, since he was the supreme commander, so Peter had to search for the largest set of private looking rooms, meaning rooms with a bed in them. That should be doable.

When he was sure he had found a safe spot in the air ducts far enough away from any grates or other openings, Peter sat down and got out his scanner. The others had gone quiet because the Kree must have taken away all their stuff, but he still kept his communicator running, just in case.

As he activated the scanner, it beeped lowly. Peter let it run for a few moments before he checked the holo screen that Rocket had gotten from Kree tech. It was immensely practical because it needed no storage room whatsoever, but was large enough to display the scans in a useful size.

Peter studied the plans until he was certain he had found what he had been looking for. There was a set of four quite large rooms that looked like a bedroom with an attached second room (maybe a clothing or storage room?), a bathroom, and some sort of office or meeting room with a big table. He was pretty sure that this could only be Ronan’s private section.

He took another moment to drink something and take a few deep breaths. This had gone terribly wrong. He should have left as soon as Rocket had warned him. But no, of course, he had had to fuck everything up. Great job, Quill. Great job. But now was his chance to make up for it, for getting the plans out of Ronan’s chambers and getting his friends out of the cells. He had no idea yet how exactly he would do that, but most of the time his plans came as he went. Sometimes that meant they were horrible, but sometimes they worked. He was still here and alive, after all, so maybe he wasn’t even so bad at this whole thing. (Okay, he was, but he would still manage to do this.)

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath before he went back to crawling through the tubes. At one point he had to climb up a vertical tube which took a lot of cursing and got him some bruises and a cracked fingernail. But finally, he had reached the exit to Ronan’s office.

Peter carefully peeked inside, but the room was empty. So he reached through the bars to activate the sensor and open the grate. Then he silently slipped into the office.

The room was just sporadically furnished, as it was common for the Kree. There only was a big table, some chairs, and a few storage devices. The entire room was dark and cold. Peter thought that this told a lot about the species that built such chambers.

He immediately began to search the entire room for the plans. Ronan had said himself that they were here, so he just _had_ to find them this time.

It only took him a few minutes to spot them in a table drawer. They were saved on a hologram stick and showed up instantly as Peter activated it. Hologram sticks were like fancier versions of thumb drives. Writing things down on paper wasn't even a thing for Kree.

Peter quickly copied the plans on another stick, just to be sure, and then stuffed both of them into different pockets of his gear. He was already on his way over to the air duct when the thought struck him that maybe Ronan had other stuff hidden in his private chambers that could be of interest for the Resistance. Maybe he should give it a try and see what he could find.

The office was interesting. There were several other hologram sticks, but most of them didn't contain any useful information. Peter kept two other ones, one with an exact room plan and information on the systems being run in the building, and one with numbers and facts about the force of the Kree, their soldiers, ships, and weapons. Both could come in handy at some point.

After he was done with the office, he decided to have a quick look into the bedroom as well. Partly because he thought that Ronan might have another screen with files on it in there, partly because he was immensely curious as to how Ronan the Accuser's bedroom would look. Maybe he had a poster of a Kree pop band or something on his wall. The Backkree Boys. Or the Space Girls. Who knew.

Smirking to himself, Peter went over to the door that led to the little hallway connecting the office with the more intimate rooms of Ronan's private section.

The bedroom was just as sporadic as the office. There was a bed and a few alcoves in the walls to store stuff. That was all. Peter made his way over to one of them to see what was held inside. Which personal belongings did Ronan deem worthy to be kept in his bedroom?

There were no photographs or anything else that hinted at a family or any other sort of important relationship. Even if Kree didn't use printed photos, Ronan could still have a hologram or projection of his loved ones if he wanted to. So either there were none or Ronan didn't care for them. Both options were kind of scary to Peter. Instead, the alcove the Terran was looking at held some items that looked somehow religious. There was a round seal with an upside down triangle in the middle that had another, slightly smaller triangle inside. They were topped by a weird shape that Peter couldn't possibly describe. The circle around the triangle was filled with runes, but they were no Kree signs and Peter couldn't read them. On both sides of it stood small bowls with a fire burning in them. In front of it, there was placed a little, shallow basin that was filled with yellow dust. Peter had no idea about Kree religion, but this looked like an altar or something.

Peter reached out to touch the seal but stopped in his tracks as he heard footsteps in the hallway. Shit! Someone was coming!

Faster than lightning, the man sprinted over to the bed and shoved himself underneath it. The most cliché hiding-place in the world, but where else should he go?

The bed was big, so there was enough room for Peter to fit under it. As the door opened, he held his breath and tensed all of his muscles. If someone found him here, he was dead.

He heard someone coming into the room and then the door closing. The footsteps were quiet, the person wasn't wearing any boots. Peter didn't hear the rustling of clothes either, which indicated that the person was entirely naked. So it must be Ronan. Who else would come into his bedroom with no clothes on?

Peter dared to breathe shallowly. He hadn't touched anything in this room. There was no hint whatsoever for Ronan to tell that someone had been here. Peter would just have to wait underneath the bed until the Kree was asleep and then he could vanish through the air duct in the office again. Unless...

Ronan stood in front of the alcove now. Peter could see his naked heels and the lower part of his calves from where he was hiding underneath the bed. The Accuser was talking in a language the translator in Peter's ear couldn't grasp. Apparently, it was ancient. Maybe it was the same language as the runes on the religious seal.

Peter carefully let his hand wander down to the hold of his blaster. Maybe he shouldn't leave as soon as Ronan was asleep. Maybe he should take this chance to bring another big change to the world's situation...

As Ronan came over to the bed, Peter once again held his breath. He had probably never been this close to a Kree before, especially not a naked one. He also pretty certainly had never been this nervous before. He didn't even want to imagine what Ronan would do to him if he found him here.

The bed made no sound at all as Ronan climbed into it. Peter couldn't remember the last time he had slept in an actual bed. Since he had joined the Resistance he was always on the run and slept on old mattresses, camping mats, air beds, or just sleeping bags, sometimes even just the plain ground. The thought of a warm, cosy bed brought a bitter taste up in his mouth.

Shaking the thought off, he concentrated and perked up his ears. He needed to listen to Ronan's breathing to figure out when the Kree fell asleep. If he came out from underneath the bed too early, he was screwed. Maybe Ronan snored, that would be excellent. If not, Peter would just have to wait for a while until he was certain the Kree wasn't awake anymore.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept scribble of Ronan's room :)


	4. To protect what we love

Ronan didn't snore and he breathed so quietly that Peter could hardly hear it. He just lay there under the Kree's bed for what felt like an eternity, counting the minutes. He couldn't wait for too long as he still had to free his friends, but he couldn't risk it to make his move too early, either. The intensity of the situation made his heartbeats hammer in his ears and his temples throb unpleasantly.

After 46 minutes, Peter decided that it was safe to crawl out from under the bed. He couldn't hear any noise from Ronan, no rustling sheets or sniffing or sighing or anything else that hinted at him still being awake. And even _if_ he was, Peter still had his hand at the blaster and Ronan was unarmed. He would do okay. Hopefully...

As quietly as he possibly could, Peter pulled himself out from under the bed. He couldn't help making some low noise, as he sadly was no ninja, but for a regular human being hiding in his enemy's bedroom, he did excellently. After what seemed like forever, he finally came to his feet at the side of the bed and allowed himself to take a deep breath. Then he raised his head and looked at Ronan.

The Kree lay in the middle of the big bed on his back, his head slightly fallen away from Peter. His arms lay neatly on either side of his body, palms on the mattress. No blanket was covering him and he also used no pillow. The mattress looked pretty hard and uncomfortable as well. Peter had no idea how he could sleep like this. But he _did_ sleep, Peter was very certain of this by now. Otherwise, he would have reacted already. Also, his chest heaved in a slow, steady rhythm.

Peter pressed his lips together and quietly pulled out his blaster. This was his chance. He could end Ronan the Accuser, the head of the invasion, and throw the Kree into chaos. Sure, they would probably name another leader very soon and would go on with their plans. But losing someone as important as Ronan would tear a hole into their system. He was strong and experienced and would be missing for their plans and strategy. Maybe it would hurt them so much they would actually lose this war. And even if not, it would show the Kree that Earth wasn't going down without struggle and that the Resistance could do actual damage to them. It would be a statement and bring fear to the Kree and hope to humankind. It would be a great victory for this enslaved planet.

Peter pointed the blaster at Ronan's head. It was completely bald, not even eyebrows arched over his closed eyes. His lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks though in the dim light that came from the light band on the wall. Purple veins ran underneath his light blue skin, leaving a fascinating structure. Without being able to help it, Peter traced some of them with his eyes. When you looked closer, Kree skin wasn't just blue, it was textured. Tiny spots of white and black made Ronan's body look like smooth, blue stone. With this skin pattern and the veins, he could have been a marble statue, given how motionless he lay on the mattress. Only his chest moved up and down slightly with every breath.

Breath. Breathing. Ronan was breathing.

It was this subtle and unconscious action that made Peter's hand begin to tremble. In front of him lay a living, breathing creature, a person. Someone with dreams and ideals and thoughts and emotions. Someone who feared and loved and longed and suffered. How could Peter take the right to kill this man? Who was he to decide that this person didn't deserve to live anymore? How dared he?

He swallowed and lowered his gun a little. He couldn't do this. He couldn't shoot a sleeping man in the head. A defenceless, vulnerable man that wasn't even aware of what was happening around him. In battle, yes, in battle he could shoot an opponent, someone who tried to kill him or his comrades. But right now, they weren't battling. Right now, Ronan was sleeping in what he thought to be his private and safe chamber, feeling secure and invulnerable. He had no chance to fight for his life right now.

Yes, he was a cruel and horrible man that held Peter's race as slaves and destroyed their entire planet for a war his people were fighting. He was wrong and needed to be stopped and it lay in Peter's hands to do so right now. He owed it to his people, his comrades and his friends. But shooting a sleeping man in the face was just wrong. If he did that, he was just as bad as Ronan, maybe even worse. He simply couldn't do this.

He sighed lowly and shook his head about himself. He was a terrible softy, in the most mistimed moment. But he couldn't change it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he shot this defenceless man in the head.

The blaster went back into its holster and Peter turned around to leave. He would go back through the air ducts and go to free his friends. It was risky with the plans now, he could be imprisoned after all. But he couldn't just leave them here, they were his –

He yelped in surprise as a hand grabbed his wrist like a vice and yanked him back. He instinctively tried to reach for his blaster, but it hung on the other side of his body and he couldn't reach it. Fuck! Fucking hell, he would die!

“Star-Lord,” a calm and dark voice said behind him. “That is the name you have given yourself, am I correct? The name you use as the leader of the Resistance. I heard it a lot ever since I arrived here.”

Peter's heart beat so fast that it felt like it would be bursting through his chest any moment. He stood there frozen, his right wrist in Ronan's grip, his left hand pressed to his belt where he had given up on reaching his blaster. Ronan would kill him. He would get the plans. He would execute his friends. It had all failed now.

“Do you really think I would not hear you crawling out from right underneath me,” Ronan went on. There was a silent threat in his voice without him having to change his tone. “Do you really think I would not notice someone pointing a gun at my head.”

“Why didn't you prevent me from pulling the trigger, then?” Peter wanted to know. His left hand slowly crept towards one of the bags on his belt.

“I was curious,” Ronan admitted. “I wanted to see if you would actually do it.”

“You could have died.”

“My reflexes are superior to yours,” Ronan explained. “As soon as I would have heard your blaster loading its shot, I would have intervened.”

“Yeah, of course,” Peter groaned. “Next time I will use a knife instead of a blaster with a one second booting time.”

Ronan laughed lowly. The sound sent a shiver down Peter's spine and gave him goosebumps. His fingers slipped into the bag and wrapped around a small device that was stored in there. Just as Peter's fist had closed around it completely, ready to pull it out, Ronan suddenly yanked at his arm and catapulted him backwards. Peter shrieked in surprise.

Before he could react somehow, Ronan's second hand grabbed him by the throat and harshly shoved him across the room. Peter's back hit the wall and the impact pressed the air out of his lungs. A moment later, he dangled in the air, because Ronan had lifted him up. Peter writhed helplessly, hardly being able to breathe anymore. The Kree was staring right at him now, his face only a bit lower than Peter's.

“This was all a trick,” Ronan stated. “Your pathetic friend coaxed the information where the plans are being kept out of me with her false whining. Did they get caught on purpose? Was it part of the plan?”

Peter was unable to answer because he didn't get enough air and his throat was being held too tightly. He only groaned and kicked his legs.

Ronan's purple eyes burnt right into him with an intensity that Peter had never experienced before. They were beautiful and scary at the same time and for a split second, he thought that seeing them as the last thing on Earth before he died would actually not be so bad.

“I almost admire the Resistance,” the Accuser barely more than whispered. “You are fighting against your tormentor, trying to free yourself and save your independence. That shows strength and a determined mind.”

“Thanks,” Peter somehow brought out. “People are... capable of extraordinary things when... they try to protect their planet...”

“I know,” Ronan nodded. “I'm trying to protect my planet too. That is why I am fighting this war, after all. And that is why I cannot let the Resistance destroy my plans. To protect my people is my purpose.”

“Trust me... I get that...” Peter acknowledged. “But this is... _my_ planet, bro... And it's not fair to... treat it like this... This is not... our war...”

Ronan hummed. His cool fingers moved ever so slightly against Peter's neck as his gaze wandered over the Terran's face. He had no black paint on like the Kree usually did. Peter was fascinated by how plain and smooth his face looked without it.

“No, it is not,” he agreed. “But I will do what it takes to win this war and protect the Kree, and as it turns out, we need Terra as a base. I understand how for you that is a shame, but the Kree are stronger than you and only the strongest one wins in the end.”

Peter wheezed and drew in as much air as he could. “I wonder...” he managed to croak, “why you haven't... won this war then... yet... Maybe you're not as... strong as you... want to be... Roro...”

Ronan's face turned into an angry grimace. His lower lip stuck out so badly that not even a dozen four-year-olds combined could have pouted this heavily, which was absolutely hilarious in its own way. Then Ronan opened his mouth to shout something, but Peter didn't stick around to listen to it. Instead, he slammed what he held in his left hand against the side of Ronan's neck.

The shocker worked just as intended. They had snatched several of these little babies from the Kree months ago and they worked excellently against the people who had made them. Unlike electro shockers, they didn't lock the victim's muscles but instead made you collapse on the spot. Ronan roared in surprise and pain, and automatically let go of Peter's throat as he went down. He was immensely strong and so he didn't go limp completely, but it was enough to make Peter get free and fall back to the ground. He, of course, had been prepared for this and so immediately started running. Ronan tried to go after him, but couldn't get up fast enough.

As Peter reached the door, he turned around mid-run and threw another shocker at Ronan. The Kree growled angrily and tried to shake it off, but the second encounter with those tiny shits finally had him go limp entirely. Probably only for a couple of seconds, but it was enough for Peter to make it to the air duct safely.

On his way through the office, he had an idea and quickly grabbed one of the portable screens from the table. He climbed back into the air duct with it, shutting the grate behind him, and then crawled away from the opening as fast as possible. As he was certain that he had brought enough space between himself and Ronan, he stopped to activate the tablet and type in an order.

It took him a moment, but, finally, he found what he was searching for and deactivated the locks of the cells in the prison block. He wouldn't have time to go search for his friends now anymore, as Ronan knew he was here and would probably try to free them. The Accuser would most certainly search the entire base for Peter and the plans, so the Terran had to get out of here as quickly as possible. His friends would have to help themselves somehow.

Because he figured that their gear was locked away somewhere else, he also deactivated the locks of any other room in the entire prison block. That was all he could do for them right now. He trusted them to make it out of there on their own from here on. His task now was to get the plans to safety.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments so far, folks :)


	5. Escaping

He decided to steal one of the pods right away. As soon as Ronan would alarm the other Kree, they would search for Peter everywhere and would probably also increase the surveillance. Also, the chances were high that they would start another search for the base of the Resistance, so it wasn't safe to return to the others. The Kree could follow him. But no one expected him to steal a space pod, so now was the best chance to do exactly that. He just had to be very careful to not get caught. Then again he always had to be.

Without hesitating, Peter made his way through the air duct towards the other side of the base. It had a square shape, surrounding an inner courtyard where the pods were parked. Peter had to get out on this inner part of the building to reach the ships.

Ronan for sure was back on his feet by now. Peter set the tablet he had shoved under his belt on signal so he could listen to the Kree's intern communicator frequency. This way he knew where they were currently searching for him and could avoid bumping into them. He also activated his communicator once more which he had switched off when he had waited for Ronan to fall asleep under the Accuser's bed. You never knew, maybe his friends would try to reach him at one point.

The entire base was buzzing by now. From what Peter heard over the tablet, his friends had escaped prison and were loose in the base as well, just like he himself. The Kree didn't know where either of them was and searched everywhere for them. Peter was sure that his friends had already left the base and were on the run, fleeing somewhere to not lead the Kree to the hiding-place of the Resistance. It was good that the Kree were searching for them, it gave Peter a better chance to make it to the pods unseen.

As he reached the external exit of the air duct system, he waited behind the final grate until the coast was clear. He could look down at the courtyard and oversee the area. It wasn't very busy yet, the Kree searched inside and on the outer side of the building mostly. Only a few were swarming the courtyard. Some climbed into pods to search the area from above. That was good. No one would suspect something when Peter took off with a pod, then.

Peter waited for a moment when no Kree was near the exit of the air duct and then quickly opened the grate to jump down to the courtyard. He didn't take the time to hide, but immediately aimed for the nearest pod. He had no idea how to fly one of those, but he would just try. How hard could it be after all?

He had watched several Kree flying those things already and so he knew how to open the door. He always called them 'The Kree', but actually, there were also lower soldiers called 'Sakaaran' that were apparently some sort of allies to the Kree and that flew those pods as well. But there weren't many around in this building, as it was a high-level strategic base meant for high-rank Kree and not their meagre pawns.

Peter ran his hand over an area of the ship that had the door opening at the touch. He climbed inside and let the door slide shut behind him again. Then he looked around.

The ship was very small, basically nothing more than a cockpit for two people. Peter was alone though and he didn't want that to change, so he better left before someone found him here.

He sat down on one of the seats and looked at the control panel in front of him. … Okay, what the fuck. How was this supposed to work?! He had no time to try it out, it had to look like he knew how to fly as soon as he took off. Otherwise, the Kree would suspect something.

Okay, Peter. You can do this. Take a deep breath, relax. This can't be so hard.

There was a lever with a looped handle that had a button right underneath the grip, so you could push it while holding the lever. Peter assumed that this lever controlled the speed, as it could only go forth or back. Then there was a knob, probably to start the engines? Peter couldn't imagine what else a knob was for. And then there also was a weird, soft surface which you apparently could place your hand on. Was that for steering? It had to be. There was no other element to use for that.

Alright, just go for it, Peter. Every second counts. Go! Be the space-hero you always wanted to be! Make Han Solo proud!

He turned the knob and was rewarded with a buzzing sound that could only mean the engines had actually activated themselves. Great! Now what to do next? How did he get this thing off the ground?

He placed his hand on the soft surface and gently pushed forward. The entire surface moved with his hand and a horrible creaking noise could be heard. Okay, bad idea. This wasn't how it worked.

Shouting came from outside. Oh boy, now he really had to hurry!

He grabbed the lever and just pushed the button. Maybe that was for – HOLY SHIT, NO IT WAS NOT!!!

The entire ship darted forward, ploughing through the ground, right towards the next pod and ready to crash into it. Peter managed to tear at the lever just in time to make the pod finally take off, only seconds before it collided with one of its still parked siblings.

Okay, the lever was for up and down, the button was for speed! Fucking hell, how was anyone supposed to figure that out?!

Peter's pod lurched away from the base. It felt like riding a slide on a frozen lake, but even worse because you could also go up and down. 3D-fuck-up olé. Peter pressed his hand onto the soft surface and moved it around like crazy to stabilise the ship. The pod followed every move his hand made, as the surface followed the movements and transferred them onto the vehicle. Like a joystick, but flat.

Something hit his ship and jolted it. They were shooting at him. Fuck this! He couldn't use that right now!

His desperate attempts to dodge the blows almost made him lose control over the ship. He was starting to seriously panic as suddenly a loud bang could be heard, and then lots of excited shouting and cursing. Peter tried to see what had happened, but all he could make out was smoke. Lots and lots of smoke that was covering the entire courtyard, making it impossible for the Kree to see him in the sky. What the actual...

“Hey, buddy,” a very familiar voice suddenly came through his communicator. “I think we just saved your ass.”

“Rocket!” Peter burst into relieved laughter. “Holy crap, that was close, man! Should have guessed this was you! I assume you got out then?”

“Sure did,” Rocket confirmed. “Guess you had something to do with that?”

“You bet your ass I did,” Peter grinned. “I'm on my way to deliver those plans now. Wish me luck.”

“Nah, I rather wish you success. And now I gotta run, sorry, man. We better hear from you, understood?”

“Understood. Now get your asses out of there, I left behind some pretty pissed off Kree.”

He heard Rocket cackle. Then the connection broke, either because Rocket had deactivated his communicator or because Peter had already gotten too far away.

He used the distraction Rocket had created and pushed the button in the handle of the lever as hard as he could. The pod dashed off towards the sky, gaining in height rapidly. Those pods were fast if you knew how to make them, and Peter knew now. With his heart still pounding like crazy, he got himself to safety, away from the Kree base.

He flew higher and higher, higher and higher, up into the night sky with its billions of stars and galaxies and even though he knew that he was on a dangerous and risky mission, he felt like a little child living its biggest dream. He always had wanted to fly a space-ship – who hadn't? – and now this wish was finally coming true. And damn, space was even more beautiful than he had imagined. For several long moments, Peter couldn't do anything but marvel at the endless void around him.

As he managed to snap out of his fascination long enough to remember his mission, Peter pulled the lever back in its original position to keep the ship from going any higher. Then he brought his hand into a horizontal pose and drew it away from the soft surface. The ship stayed the way it was, just flying forward now. Excellent. He also tried to let go of the button, but then the ship halted. It was annoying to press it constantly, though, so Peter tried to find a solution for that. He was certain there was a way to keep this pod at a constant speed level without having to push that button, but he couldn't figure it out. After a moment, he gave up and just shoved his communicator into the handle so it would keep the button pressed. He would find out how the autopilot worked later.

When the ship was going how he wanted, he got out a hologram stick and activated it. They had stolen some useful information on where the Kree's enemies were located a while back (or else this plan would never have worked in the first place), but Peter had no idea if he was going in the right direction. However, he couldn't afford to find out the right route first, as the Kree might be on his heels already. If he was going the wrong way, he would have to correct his course later.

Thanks to Rocket and other tech-geniuses in the Resistance, they had figured out how Kree technology worked pretty well. Peter was able to transfer the map on the hologram stick onto the tablet he had stolen out of Ronan's chamber and activate the tracking function that located the tablet in its surrounding area. This way he could add the location of the tablet (and therefore the pod it was in) to the map and knew where he actually was right now.

Zooming in on the map, he found out that his course wasn't even that wrong. He just had to steer the ship a bit to the right. Then he could lean back and relax.

Of course, he didn't relax, though. He was flying in an alien ship in fucking _space,_ on a mission to rescue his planet. This was cooler than Star Wars! Okay, it was not, nothing was cooler than Star Wars. But it was still pretty cool!

Maybe he should think about what to say to those aliens when he arrived. Would they even understand him? They probably had translators, just like the Kree. How else would they all understand each other out here?

Peter got out the stolen plans and had a closer look at them. The years in the Resistance had taught him some stuff about strategy and warfare, but, of course, the war the Kree were fighting against their enemies was much bigger. And so the plans Peter looked at right now were a lot more complex and at a bigger scale. They were encrypted, so he didn't really understand much. But he was certain that the alien race he would deliver them to would find a way to decipher them and make good use of what they found out.

Or would they? Now that the Kree knew Peter had stolen the plans, they would most certainly not act according to them anymore. Or start the manoeuvre immediately, before Peter had time to give the stick to anyone. Shit. This might actually frustrate his intention to sell those plans to the Kree's enemies. Damn.

Peter curled his lips and tried to think of an alternative solution. After all, he had Ronan's tablet and his scanner had the blueprints of the Kree's major strategic military base saved onto it from when Peter had used it to find Ronan's private chambers. Maybe that was worth something? He would just try it. He had no other option, after all. If they didn't accept it, then maybe they could at least negotiate what it would take to have them help the human race. Or – if they were as nice and helpful as Peter hoped they would be – what they needed to finally defeat the Kree and free Earth. That was all Peter could hope for right now. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Sighing, he looked out of the front window to distract himself from his doubts and let himself get lost in the gorgeousness that was the universe instead.

 


	6. What now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! In my defence: I was writing another Staraccuser fic last week! You can find "In the Name of Love" in my works :)

Ronan was furious. Not only had the strategic plans been stolen from right under his nose, they had also lost Star-Lord and one of their pods. And the leader of the Resistance had even freed his companions from their prison cells who had taken back all their gear, which would have helped the Kree a great deal in finding the Resistance's hiding-place. To top it all off, they had covered the entire courtyard in somniferous toxic smoke, making it impossible for the Kree to get to their pods and pursue the fleeing Star-Lord with the strategic plans. All five of them had escaped and now the Kree had no trace of them. This was a disaster.

His men were still searching the entire area, trying to find the escaped Resistance members or a hint of anything else. It was no question where Star-Lord had gone and so, of course, a couple of pods were already after him, too. Hopefully, they would reach him before he could deliver the plans to the Halori. Otherwise, the Kree would have to change their plans of attack completely, plans that had been elaborated and defined over months, plans that had already been prepared to execute, and now they were about to be useless. This meant a major throwback in this war and a serious loss of advantages. Of course, they still had backup plans, but they weren't quite as radical and useful. This plan had been supposed to be the major strike, the big coup, ideally the way to win this war. The Resistance had always been a thorn in the Kree's flesh, but today they had really drawn blood.

It was the middle of the night, but no one in the base was asleep. Ronan had already contacted the other bases all around the planet, all run by his direct subordinates, and had informed them about what had happened. Some of them had to struggle with the local Resistance as well, but none of them had had to face a real problem like this yet. They only freed slaves or stole supplies or blew something up every now and then. Disturbances, yes, but no real threat for this war. Star-Lord and his handful of troublemakers had stepped up the game today though and it was important to not let this happen again. If more bases got infiltrated, if more plans got stolen, if the Resistance learned how to do real damage to the Kree, that would become a serious problem.

The Kree needed Earth as their base, Hala was too far away. And it was impossible to bring up all the necessary supplies from Hala alone. Exploiting Terra and using its inhabitants to serve them was important to win this war. If they lost this support, the Kree would have to retreat.

It wasn't like they hadn't expected the Earth population to riot. But they knew they were superior to them and could suppress their attempts of resisting. And it had worked well so far. The few blows the Kree had to suffer from the humans were easy to bear, considering the only other option was to fight this war from a base a lot further away or with a population far more likely to cause problems. But apparently, the Kree had relied too much on the weakness of the Terran race and their willingness to accept their fate. As it seemed, humans were far more annoying than the Kree had thought.

  
  


“Still no sign of them,” Jotah announced from the door.

Ronan only nodded and kept staring out into the night. “Keep searching,” he ordered. “Search everywhere. The entire area. Until you find something. They have to be close.”

“As you wish, master Ronan,” the young Kree nodded and turned around to leave.

Ronan remembered when he had been that young. His father had held the highest rank in the military and had trained his son from early on. Ronan couldn't even think of a time where he hadn't practised from dusk until dawn, sometimes even at night. He had paid for his rank with sweat, blood and tears and he was immensely proud of what he had achieved. He believed that people were defined by their strength, because in his eyes strength was what made you get what you wanted. And that he held the highest rank in the military now showed how strong and therefore superior he was.

He also believed that he had to use his strength to protect his planet and his people, their traditions and values, and their culture. The Kree were a big player in various galaxies and had been so for a long time, thanks to their fast-growing military and widespread system of allies and alliances. So the Kree were convinced they were somewhat of a supreme race and that therefore their culture was supreme as well. The unconditional love Ronan felt for his planet was indoctrinated, it was deeply rooted in his very substance, and the thought of losing this war was so agonising to him that it made his stomach coil and his heart wrench. He had to win this war. He couldn't let his people down.

The base lay on an open piece of land with mountains on one side and a forest on the other. The two remaining sides stretched far and wide without any restriction, just grass and earth and bushes, and a road that was used to deliver supplies from the humans. Ronan could view to where the land met the sky, to where the solid darkness of the ground melted with the endless black of the night, dotted with stars. His home lay somewhere far beyond there, in another galaxy and out of his reach. Yet he had to be here to protect it, here on this wild and underdeveloped planet that was foreign and strange and loathsome. Ronan hated being here and he hated that the Resistance did its best to keep him from Hala even longer. He just wanted to win this war and go home. He hadn't seen it in over three years.

It had taken some time and effort, but the Kree had built their strategic bases themselves with material they had brought from Hala. They had known Terra was far behind with technology and they needed high standards to properly work on their war planning. Therefore they had used the first months of the invasion to construct a few buildings with the Kree technology standards and had altered some fitting Terran buildings as well. Ronan was thankful for that. This way at least here in this base it looked a little like home.

Growling, he turned away from the window and walked over to the table. The backup plans were flickering above the tabletop, together with other plans and maps and listings. They had to assume that their main plan had failed, unless Star-Lord could be stopped in time. Ronan would have to develop another main plan now, as fast as possible, as there was no time to lose. They had planned to strike in three days. They couldn't afford any delay.

On one of his screens, a call came in. It was Korath, Ronan's right hand. He had stationed him in another important base to make sure everything there went as it should. Korath was reliable.

Ronan accepted the call and nodded at the man before him. “Korath. I hope you bring good news.”

“We had to cancel the pursuit, master Ronan,” Korath informed him. “Star-Lord had too big of a head start, he was too far gone. We would have gotten too close to the Halori's war bases if we had kept on following him. And even then, getting him before he arrives there would have been impossible.”

Ronan gritted his teeth. “This means our plans are lost,” he made clear.

“I'm afraid so,” Korath confirmed. Ronan growled darkly. This was a nightmare.

“What are we supposed to do now, master?” the man on the other end of the line asked. “Those plans were crucial. Will the backup plans be sufficient? We will have to initiate them immediately if we don't want to lose too much time.”

“I know!” Ronan snapped. Korath became quiet instantly. “We have no other choice. Tell every base that we are from now on executing Plan Beta One since Plan Alpha has been sabotaged by the enemies. It will take longer and be less efficient, but it is the only option we have.”

Korath nodded. “As you wish, master Ronan,” he obliged. “I will send these orders out immediately.”

“Good.” Ronan clenched and unclenched his fists once, a subconscious reassurance to himself that he still had strength in his body. “Contact me as soon as anything comes in.”

“Of course, master,” Korath assured. Then he ended the call.

Ronan turned to look out of the window once more. He hated it when things got out of his control. Especially when so much was depending on it. The fate of his planet, his people, lay in his hands and here he was, rendered powerless by a handful of pity Terrans and their ill-conceived plan. He hated Terrans. And he hated the Resistance. And most of all, he hated Star-Lord. If he ever got a hold of this man again, he would end his sorry life with his very own hands.

 


	7. Black and White

No matter where Peter went, his walk-man and the mix tape his mum had made him were always with him. Even when he went to infiltrate a Kree base.

Flying towards an enormous warship while blasting _Cherry Bomb_ was by far the coolest thing he had ever done in his life. Still, he was so nervous that he felt his temples throbbing and his throat tightening up. This was so insane. He had no idea what would happen next and that was making him extremely uncomfortable.

The Kree he was familiar with by now, he had gotten used to them and knew how they worked. They didn't scare him anymore. But those guys right there in front of him? He had no idea what they were like. And that frightened him. _Anything_ could await him in this giant war station over there and maybe it was even worse than what he had fled from. Maybe the Kree were actually the good guys in this war. Maybe he would not make it out of there alive.

But maybe it was the exact other way round. Maybe the Kree were as horrible as Peter and the other humans had experienced them to be, maybe this war was all their fault. Maybe their opponents were some kind of resistance as well, fighting for their freedom. Maybe they would welcome Peter with open arms and help him in his quest to protect his planet. This hope was what Peter clung to with all his might.

So far he hadn't been shot down, even though the war station was definitely in range of fire. But it was unusual that a single Kree pod would come towards them like this, so they probably wondered what its pilot's intentions were and had decided to wait until they acted. That was good. It meant they weren't generally averse to negotiations.

The huge ship in front of him looked like white volcanic rock. It had so many openings and excrescences that it looked poriferous, only its core was completely solid. Hundreds of smaller ships surrounded it, like bees swarming their hive.

Peter decided that it would maybe be smarter to stop the pod to show he had no intentions to attack and was waiting to be granted access to the mother ship. So he grabbed his communicator he had shoved into the handle of the lever to keep the speed-button pushed, and let the pod come to a halt. Then he stopped his walk-man and shoved his headphones down to hang around his neck.

The station hovered in front of him, threatening and strange, filling out his entire field of vision even though he was still a good distance away from it. A while back, they had calculated how big the Kree warships were and had determined that they were about three miles in length. This station here was at least 50 miles in diameter, though it was hard to tell due to its irregular shape. And Peter was certain it wasn't the only base like this, there had to be more. The Kree had hundreds of warships, their opponents wouldn't be able to seriously fight them with only one huge ship like this.

After only a few moments, a swarm of little ships came flying towards him. They were a bit larger than his own pod and of a light silver colour. How cliché, Peter thought. Black and white fighting each other.

He counted ten ships, which he honestly thought a little over the top. They were forming a cocoon around his pod, making sure he had no chance to escape. Not that he had wanted to, anyways. Then he heard a strange, vibrating voice echoing through his ship. Luckily his translator was able to get the language.

“Follow us,” the voice ordered. “Don't make any attempts to oppose us or we will open fire.”

“I'll follow your every order,” Peter promised, though he didn't even know if the others could hear him. It was worth a try anyway.

Whether they heard him or not, the ships started flying towards the station and Peter did his best to follow them with his pod. It was difficult to fly it at the exact right speed though and he almost bumped into the ship in front of him because he pressed the speed-button too hard. As he tried to slow down, he did so too abruptly and nearly had the ship behind him crash into his rear. Man, they must think he was the worst pilot in the entire Kree Empire. It was his first time flying a space-ship, though, in his defence.

It took them a few minutes to arrive at the mother ship. Peter couldn't see much because of all the ships around him, but the spaces between them suddenly turned from black to white, which meant they had to be inside of the station now. Peter swallowed and tried to get a better glimpse, but it was impossible with the cluster of ships surrounding his pod. He had to wait until he was allowed to get out of it.

“Land your ship,” the strange voice finally told him. “After you have done so, leave it with your hands held up. If we see you holding a weapon, we will kill you immediately.”

“Understood,” Peter muttered. They didn't sound too friendly yet. But you probably couldn't expect that from someone when a pod of their enemies had just landed inside their war station.

He got up from his seat and walked over to the door. He held his left hand up already so the aliens wouldn't shoot him as soon as the door opened, and let his right hand wander over the wall to search for the sensor. After a moment, he had found it and the door slid open. Peter brought his right hand up as well and slowly stepped out of the ship.

A bunch of guns aimed at him the second his foot hit the ground. Peter didn't know whether to be afraid or fascinated by all the new impressions he got from just looking around. It was _amazing!_

The ship was white from the inside as well, the surfaces smooth and shiny. The exact opposite of the rough and dark aesthetics of the Kree. In a height of about two metres, there was a row of squares embedded in the wall, giving off strong yellow light. They were apparently standing in a hangar, as there were some of the silvery ships standing around. They had a sharp look to them, a pointy nose and two triangular wings. They reminded Peter of the Airforce somehow. But what fascinated him the most was the alien race standing in front of him right now.

The first thought that came to Peter's mind was that they had resemblance with a Kaminoan from _Star Wars Episode II_. They were tall, mostly humanoid creatures with thin, long limbs and white, smooth skin that shimmered strangely. They only had two fingers and a thumb, and their head was shaped like the one of a gecko, only without scales. Their eyes were big and almond-shaped with no pupil and they seemed to have no mouth. Peter decided to call them alien-lizards.

Thanks to their reptile faces, it was impossible to read any expression which made Peter really uncomfortable. The Kree looked like blue humans and were easy to analyse, but those guys? Completely off. Peter was lost here.

“Uhm, hi,” he said as friendly as possible. “My name is Star-Lord, I am –”

“You are no Kree,” the nearest alien-lizard stated. Its voice seemed to come out of its throat. This was really weird, holy crap. Peter wanted to jump back into his pod and leave right away.

“Uh, no,” he confirmed. “I am human. Terran. I'm from Earth.”

“Earth?” Another creature asked. This time Peter noticed how two little slots on its smooth neck moved. Eeeeew, this was disgusting!

“Yeah, Terra,” Peter nodded. “The Kree have invaded our planet, I was hoping you –”

“The Kree base is on Terra?” the first alien-lizard interrupted him.

Peter blinked in confusion. He had been certain that this information was well known to the Kree's enemies already. “Uh, yeah,” he replied. “We've been invaded by them and they took over our planet. They enslaved my race and have them work for them. I'm one of the few who could escape. We have formed a Resistance and we hoped that –”

“Follow us,” he was interrupted once more. “We will bring you to our Great Mother. She will ask you more about the Kree and your planet.”

“Uh, sure, okay,” Peter nodded. “Can I take my arms down? It's becoming uncomfortable.”

“”We have aimed our weapons at you,” one of the aliens reminded him. Peter couldn't quite tell which one it was. “If you make a false movement, you will be shot.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. Chill,” Peter muttered and slowly lowered his arms. Those guys seemed pretty harsh. He wasn't so sure anymore if they would listen to his requests.

The alien-lizards swarmed to surround him, just like they had done with his pod. An ungentle poke of a gun-head into his back told him that he should get moving, so he set in motion and followed the alien-lizards in front of him. They even had thin tails, as Peter noticed now. With their slim limbs, they looked like a mixture of a reptile and an insect. Peter caught himself thinking that the Kree weren't actually so weird after all.

He took his chance and had a look around as they walked. Sadly there wasn't much to see, only the same design of hallways everywhere: White, shiny walls with square yellow lights. Sometimes they passed a crisscrossing hallway or he saw oval sliding doors in the walls. But that was all. Peter was pretty disappointed, to be honest.

Finally, they reached a big, round door at the end of a hallway and stopped in front of it. The leading alien-lizard gave a weird clicking sound and waited until the door slid open. Then they entered and, at last, Peter could see something else than just white hallways.

The room was round with a flat dome for a ceiling so that it was higher in the middle than on the sides. Still, it was possible to stand in front of the windows that formed the right and the left wall of the room without hitting your head. Even the alien-lizards, who were easily 2.20 metres tall, had enough space. Of course, they did. They had designed this room, after all.

Through the windows, Peter could look outside. The right window didn't show much except for another part of the war station and a little bit of black space. Through the left window, though – apart from some excrescences of the station – one could see the little ships that were surrounding their base. Finally. Peter felt far less boxed in than in the narrow hallways here.

“Who is this,” another vibrating voice startled him out of his thoughts. This one sounded a lot richer and also warmer than the voices Peter had heard so far. He turned his head to see who it belonged to.

The alien-lizards in front of him stepped aside to make room for another creature that was coming towards Peter now. It was a bit smaller than them and had a thicker body with thicker limbs, but the composition was the same. Only the head was a lot different. It looked nothing like a lizard and instead was flat and round. Two weird, massive antennas or horns or whatever came out of the sides, looking like white, curved spoons. The almond-shaped eyes were the same, though, and they seemed to stare at Peter. It was hard to tell due to the lack of pupils, but Peter felt uncomfortable. He swallowed.

“I'm Star-Lord,” he introduced himself. He thought it better to use his Resistance name in case those creatures had maybe heard of the Resistance before. Also, it just sounded more epic. “I'm the leader of Earth's Resistance against the Kree and I was hoping to be able to help you in winning this war and freeing us from their invasion.”

There, he had said it. He had no idea what the Great Mother was thinking, but at least she hadn't interrupted him, like the alien-lizards had done. Finally, someone had listened to him and let him get his intentions across.

“Help us in winning this war?” the Great Mother repeated. “How?”

“I have information that could be useful for you,” Peter explained. “We've stolen war plans from the Kree and I can tell you everything else I know about them.”

“War plans?” Suddenly the Great Mother seemed to be very interested. Well, she better, Peter had had a hard time bringing those plans over here after all.

He nodded. “Yeah, war plans,” he confirmed. “I can show you if you want to.”

The Great Mother eyed him from head to toe. Peter knew he looked horrible after crawling through the air ducts all evening, but he hoped those aliens had never seen a Terran before and therefore couldn't tell. Maybe he was the first member of his race those guys ever encountered! Wow, this was so cool!

“Sit with me,” the Great Mother ordered and gestured over to a table in the back of the room.

Peter smiled slightly and nodded. “Thank you,” he agreed. “That's very kind.”

The Great Mother went ahead and Peter followed, four of the alien-lizards right behind him. They didn't seem to trust him and wanted to guard their queen or empress or whatever the Great Mother even was. Peter didn't really care, though, as long as he could talk to her and ask her for help.

He sank down on one of the stools that was obviously not meant for a human butt and squirmed around until he finally put up with the fact that he couldn't get comfortable on this thing. The Great Mother sat opposite of him, her yellow eyes staring at him coldly. Peter felt very uneasy under her watch.

“The plans are saved on this holo stick,” he announced and slowly reached into his pocket to get it out. The guards eyed him suspiciously, their weapons pointing at him, but Peter as calmly as possible placed the stick on the table in front of him and then settled his hands beside it to make clear he was not attempting to reach for anything else. The alien-lizards didn't seem to relax much either way.

“The Kree know I have them and brought them to you,” he confessed. “That means those plans are useless for you now, but it also means the Kree can't act them out anymore, knowing that you have seen them. This means their planned attack has been obstructed. I think that's worth something.”

The Great Mother didn't respond or show any reaction. She was really hard to read and Peter's uneasiness increased. He had no idea where he stood with her or the alien-lizards in general and that was immensely unsettling.

“Uhm,” he continued and nervously cleared his throat. “They are encrypted, but I thought you would surely be able to solve that and then you can maybe even use the code to read other Kree plans and secret documents.”

“We have encrypted the Kree's secret code long ago,” one of the alien-lizards told him.

“Oh, cool,” Peter acknowledged. “Then you can read the plans right away.”

“Those plans are worthless for us,” the Great Mother informed him. Peter's heart sunk down to his stomach. No, no, no! He needed something to sell to those guys so they would help his people against the Kree! This was their only chance!

“I also have a scan of the Kree's main strategic base!” he offered quickly. “I can show you the location of Ronan the Accuser's residence!”

The Great Mother was quiet for a moment. Then she asked: “What other information can you give us about the Kree?”

“I will tell you all that I know,” Peter hurried to promise. “Whatever I can. Really. My people want to be freed from this invasion, we want our planet back. Whatever you need to achieve that, I will give to you.”

Again, the Great Mother was silent after that statement. Then she gave a guttural grunt and nodded. “Are the Kree everywhere on your planet?” she asked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Peter confirmed. “They have taken over every country. Some areas are occupied heavier than others, but there is no safe place.”

“And do they have weapons and bases all around your planet too?”

“Yes, everywhere,” Peter nodded. “When they go for a manoeuvre, they of course head out with their warships and stuff. That's usually when the Resistance is able to get some stuff done, free some slaves, overrun some bases, steal some supplies and all that. But the Kree always leave behind enough men and weapons to control Terra sufficiently. They and their allies, they are just too much for us, you know. We can't beat them alone. They have taken all our weapons, and their own are far more advanced than ours. There's not much we can do. In the three years they've already been on our planet, I think most of the time they just prepared for the final battle. They never used their entire force, they just collected information and used Terra to produce and stock up enough supplies and weapons for the real fights. I don't know how you guys have handled this war so far, but for the Kree, the critical phase hasn't started just yet. The plans we stole today,” he tapped the hologram stick on the table, “they are, I think, what they wanted to use as the big blow. As the start of the real war. So now they have to reorganise. Maybe you can use that somehow.”

“I think we can,” the Great Mother replied. “Now that we know that the Kree's base is located on Terra and that they have spread over the entire planet, we can aim our attack on one point and overrun it before the Kree can concentrate their troops. Then we will go on and bomb Terra bit by bit until they have been destroyed in their entirety. We have enough unprepared bombs on our ship to execute this plan, all it takes is for them to be primed. We will start this task immediately.”

“Wow, that sounds, uh... radical,” Peter commented. “I mean, I'm thankful you want to get rid of the Kree and all, but, you know, Earth is my home and I don't want my people to get hurt. I want to free them, not to get them killed. So when you say you want to destroy the Kree in their entirety, bombing all of Terra and that, you mean you will only aim at their bases, right? You will leave my people out of this, yeah?”

The Great Mother stared at him out of her big, yellow eyes. Peter once again couldn't read her expression.

“You won't, like, literally bomb the entire planet, will you?” he tried again, sounding more desperate than he had intended.

“You have given us useful information,” one of the alien-lizards chimed in. “We will bring you to a chamber in case we need your help again. Get up and follow us.”

Peter's frown deepened. He really didn't like the course this had taken. Somehow it felt like those aliens were planning something that would not only affect the Kree and like they didn't give a dry fart about what was happening to Earth. Or what would happen to it...

“You won't hurt my people,” the repeated and this time it sounded like a threat.

The alien-lizards gave a low, growling sound. The Great Mother didn't react at all.

“Follow us,” the alien-lizard commanded once again. “Get up and follow us to your chamber.”

Peter gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on the table. This was bad. This was really, really bad. Peter had the feeling he had just shoved Earth from the frying pan into the fire.

He got up and stepped away from the table. The alien-lizards swarmed him again, taking him in their middle.

“Thank you for listening to me,” he mumbled towards the Great Mother before he followed the non-verbal orders of the alien-lizards who were poking him with their weapons once more, and turned around to leave the room. On his way out, he cast a last glance out of the window at the fleet of ships surrounding the base. Suddenly he missed the familiar dark silhouettes of the Kree warships on the horizon.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept scribble of the "alien-lizards"


	8. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Valentine's Day to all my readers <3 I love you! :)

“Oh, wait, I forgot to give you something,” Peter claimed and stopped walking. The alien-lizards behind him almost bumped into him and gave an angry growl. They aimed their guns at him suspiciously once again and Peter held up his hands appeasingly. “Easy, it's just another stick,” he promised. “Relax.”

He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out another hologram stick that he held out to the alien-lizard in front of him between this thumb and index finger. “See,” he said. “It's just a stick, like I promised. There's some more plans and stuff we got on the Kree on there. Maybe you can make use of that somehow.”

The alien-lizard in front of him took the stick from him with a low grunt and nodded. Peter smiled slightly at it. “All good?” he asked.

“Follow us now,” the alien-lizard snarled.

“Sure, let's go,” Peter agreed. The alien-lizard turned around again and continued its way down the hallway. Peter followed it, his fist still closed around the little smoke bomb he had retrieved out of his pocket together with the stick. He waited for a few more steps until he ever so casually dropped it onto the floor.

The stinging smoke rose up in grey waves within nanoseconds. Peter jumped backwards instantly, knocking over one of the confused alien-lizards behind him. Before they had time to react, Peter was already running down the hallway, his breath still held to not inhale the smoke.

Behind him angry twittering and hissing arose and he even heard blasters being fired in his direction. Luckily, he had already slid around a corner and was out of range.

Phew, okay. Now he had to find the way back to the hangar. The alien-lizards would hopefully be knocked out by the toxic smoke (not deadly, just somniferous), so he didn't have to fear being followed or them calling for help. Still, he really needed to hurry before someone found out he had escaped. Or was about to escape right now.

He got out his scanner while he ran and activated it. He was actually quite good at remembering directions, but the hallways here all looked the same and there were _dozens_ of them. And also he was running away and had no idea which turns he had taken and where he was heading. So scanning this damn labyrinth of white, shiny horror was absolutely necessary.

Since he was moving quickly, the scanner beeped a few times in protest, unable to do its work, so finally, Peter stopped for a moment to let it scan the hallways properly. It took forever and Peter cursed under his breath at the little device while he nervously bobbed up and down on his toes and looked around, paranoid. If they found him, he was most likely screwed. And not only him, his entire planet as well. He had to get out of here and do something before it was too late.

Finally, the scan popped up and Peter quickly zoomed out until he found the hangar. It wasn't too far away, but it would still take a while to get there through those winding hallways of hell. He better started running again right away.

This day officially was the most exhausting and nerve-racking one in his entire existence. First he had prepared the infiltration of the Kree base, then he had executed said infiltration, then his comrades had been caught and he had visited Ronan's chambers where he had experienced a very close encounter with the Kree warlord from literally face to face, after that he had fled through the air ducts, freed his friends and stolen a Kree pod which he had almost crashed right away, then he had been shot at and saved by his escaped friends, afterwards he had steered a freaking space-ship to an alien war station and now he was fleeing from said aliens because it had turned out they weren't better than the aliens he already had at home. If this wasn't worth its own movie once Hollywood was a thing again on Earth, then Peter didn't know.

He didn't pass a single alien-lizard on his way, which quite confused him. Where were they? Were they all sitting in the ships outside of this station? What were they doing in them? Just floating around out there? Those guys were really weird. But their oddness was good for Peter.

As he reached the hangar, the Kree pod was still standing where he had brought it down, surrounded by the white ships of the alien-lizards who had escorted him here. For a moment, Peter thought about taking one of them, but then he would have to learn how to fly those and also the Kree might shoot him down as soon as they saw him approaching. Better not risk that. Kree pod it was.

But first, he had to open up the hangar. He jogged over to the airlock and let his gaze wander over it to see how it opened. His heart was pounding like crazy and he was completely out of breath. Damn, running was hard. He really needed something to drink.

After a few seconds of searching, he finally found an activation field to press his hand against. As soon as the airlock opened, he sprinted over to his pod and climbed into it. The door shut behind him as he sat down on the pilot seat and blew out the air in his lungs. Done! Now he just needed to fly out of here!

Peter turned on the engines and moved up the lever to take off of the ground. Then he placed his hand on the soft surface and made the ship turn around. It wasn't very smooth, manoeuvring the pod with this joystick-like steering device required lots of space and quite some time and Peter didn't have a lot of practice. But it worked, and finally, his pod faced the exit of the hangar. Still, no one had made an attempt to stop him or had even shown up, which increased his paranoia. Something was really off with those guys. They were seriously weird.

He steered the pod out of the station and pressed the speed-button as hard as possible instantly to get away from there as fast as he could. Maybe no one had even noticed something was off? The alien-lizards who had escorted him were unconscious and the Great Mother seemed to have stayed in her office. And Peter hadn't encountered anyone else inside of that station. For whatever reason, this base was noticeably lifeless and the alien-lizards seemed just as noticeably lethargic.

Still, Peter feared what the Great Mother had implied, namely bombing away everything they could hit on Earth and with that also Peter's home and his people. They didn't seem to have any interest in helping the humans, they only wanted to get rid of the Kree. By apparently killing them off on Earth, together with everything that got in their way. Peter couldn't let that happen. He needed to protect his planet at all costs.

He couldn't see if anyone was following him because he couldn't look behind the pod. He could just see out of the front window and there the way was free. Either the alien-lizards didn't care he was leaving or no one knew what was going on. Peter assumed the latter. It seemed like the majority of the alien-lizards was hanging around in the small ships (for whatever reason there was) or somewhere else in that huge station and hadn't taken notice of Peter even being there. Or of what he had been doing in the station. Either they assumed things had been taken care of or they didn't think it necessary to check back on what had happened. Or – and that Peter was afraid of the most – it didn't matter to them whether he left because it wouldn't make any difference. That thought sent a chill down Peter's spine.

If they really planned on bombing away everything that moved on Terra, what could the Resistance do about it? Could they even do anything at all? They couldn't even stop the Kree, how were they supposed to stop another alien race that intended to destroy their entire planet? At least the Kree only lived on it and had enslaved the humans. As horrible as it sounded, the Kree were the lesser evil in this scenario.

Maybe that was the key then, after all. Maybe the Resistance couldn't stop the alien-lizards. Maybe only the Kree could. With the Resistance's help.

Peter shoved his communicator in the handle again and got out his water bottle to drink something. His mouth was as dry as a dessert and his head hurt like crazy. This was not good. Noooot good. This entire plan had backfired horribly.

He grabbed Ronan's tablet that was still lying on the control panel and checked if he was on the right course. After adjusting the ship a little, he dropped the tablet back onto the panel and let his head fall back against the seat with a sigh. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and tried to think this through rationally.

There wasn't much to think about, though. There only was one way to solve this and Peter knew it. Go to Ronan, tell him what had happened, tell him about the alien-lizard's plans, hope the Kree would manage to prevent the bomb attacks. Ugh, why had Peter even thought the Kree's enemies could help.

Instead of rescuing his people, he had now viciously shoved them in harm's way by telling the Great Mother that the Kree were using Terra as their base. He had made Earth their target by telling them where to hit. If he had just shut up, if he had just kept it quiet and let the Kree do their thing, there would have been a chance. The war might have never directly come to Terra, the Kree might have won and just have gone, leaving Earth behind. Humanity would maybe have found a way to rebuild, to heal, to reorganise. But now? Now they were seriously fucked and it was all Peter's fault.

“Well done, Quill,” he muttered to himself. “The universe congratulates you on your Nobel Prize in Being A Fucking Failure.”

He grabbed his headphones and shoved them back over his ears before he pressed Play on his walk-man. The last tunes of _Cherry Bomb_ droned in his head and after a short silence were replaced by _Spirit In The Sky_. The familiar sound calmed Peter down at least a little.

It was a long ride back to Earth. Peter hadn't checked the clock, but he assumed that it had taken him about four hours to get to the alien-lizard's station, so it would take him another four to get back to Terra. Enough time to drown himself in accusations and self-pity. Also, he had to pee. Excellent. How could this day possibly become any worse.

  


 

It was hard to not fall asleep on the long ride. After a while, Peter's agitation made way for the heavy, empty exhaustion of being emotionally drained and he almost dozed off. He kept himself up by singing along to his music, but he still felt completely run over by the time Earth came into reach.

Yawning, he switched off his walk-man and stowed it back in the inside pocket of his jacket. Alright, here it goes. Just going to run to Ronan the Accuser, his kind of sworn arch enemy or something, to beg for help after having fought him for three years straight. After having stolen his plans and selling them to the enemy for absolutely nothing, destroying the biggest chance the Kree had had to defeat them. Asking him to prevent the disaster Peter had brought upon them all, a disaster that wouldn't be there if he had just let the Kree do their thing right away. Oh well, how bad could that possibly go?

Peter slowed down the ship and flew it over to where the Kree base was located. It was surprisingly hard to find that location from up here. It was far easier to start from a certain spot and then dash off into the sky than to find that exact spot from up in the sky to land there again. How did pilots do this? Peter's new mission to ask the Kree for support was almost failing already at even finding the Kree. Nobel Prize, once more.

Sadly Ronan's tablet hadn't the exact location of the Kree's major base saved onto it and sadly Peter didn't have any map of that himself. So he desperately circled above the general area for a while until the black building appeared in his sight. Fiiiinally! He had been close to a mental breakdown already.

He grabbed his communicator and activated it. “Rocket?” he tried his luck. “Gamora? Drax? Groot? Anyone?”

Random noise was his answer. Apparently, none of the others had their communicators with them. This was just getting greater and greater.

“Hey, anyone there?” he tried again. “This is Quill. Can you hear me?”

Again, silence. Peter grumbled to himself and was just about to switch the communicator back off as Gamora's voice suddenly sounded through it.

“Please tell me you're back in range already because the Kree's enemies decided to immediately strike and you're leading their army.”

“Eh, not quite, actually,” Peter replied. “They did decide to immediately strike and there most probably will be an army, but they also decided to just randomly bomb the entire planet and kill every living being on it, so it's not exactly what we have hoped for.”

“.... You are _kidding_ me right now!” Gamora groaned. “We risked our lives for _this?!_ ”

“Yeah, seems like it,” Peter muttered. “And you know what's even worse?”

“They're already here and you're just saying goodbye?” Gamora guessed.

“Damn, no. No, not just yet. I hope... No, but they didn't even know the Kree were here. They just learned from me. We would have been safe if I hadn't tried to... save us. Ironic, huh?”

Gamora sighed heavily. Peter felt guilt creeping in his guts and clawing at them painfully.

“That's not your fault,” she assured him. Her voice was calming, but had a bitter undertone to it that had nothing to do with Peter personally. “We couldn't know that. Just as we couldn't know that they would plan on bombing our entire planet. We tried to make it better and it accidentally got worse. We all agreed on this plan, we all carry the responsibility for this.”

Peter nodded slightly. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Still doesn't make me feel any better, really.”

“No, of course not,” Gamora said. Then they both were silent for a moment.

“You know we only have one option now to somehow save Earth, right?” Peter eventually asked.

Gamora sighed again before she drawled: “Yeeeaah, I know. I don't like it, but there's nothing else we could do.”

“No, I know,” Peter agreed. “I mean, we could try and hide in some fall-out shelter somewhere, but then everyone else would still die. And that's not what I'm in for.”

“No, of course not. We're the Resistance, we try to save our people. Or we will die trying.”

“Glad we agree there,” Peter stated. Then he sighed as well. “I'll go to the Kree right away. I bet Ronan will be happy to see me after I just left him writhing on his bedroom floor nakedly and all.”

“I don't even want to know,” Gamora grunted. “I will get the others and come to the base. You will probably be there first, assuming you're already close, but we will be there as soon as we can to support you.”

“Thank you.” A little smile pulled up the corners of Peter's mouth. “But please keep away from the base until I contact you and tell you it's safe to approach it, okay? I don't want you to get imprisoned again.”

“Of course,” Gamora agreed. “We'll stay hidden until we hear from you.”

“Good. See you in a while then. Try not to get yourself killed on the way.”

“Hah,” Gamora snorted. “You too. Somehow I feel like you need to listen to your own advice even more than we do.”

“Yeah, me too,” Peter mumbled. Then he hung up and stuffed the communicator back into his pocket.

The Kree base lay beneath him, just waiting to be approached to land. It would surely be entertaining to walk out of this pod and try to explain to the Kree that after all that had happened just half a day ago, Peter was now trying to actually help them out. But Peter couldn't be bothered anymore, he had already gone through so much today. It was almost funny. But maybe that was just Peter's tired brain.

“Alright, here we go,” he announced to no one but himself as he grabbed the lever and lowered the ship down towards the base's courtyard. “Mission Imposskreeble has begun!”

 

 

 


	9. The Enemy of my Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Rachel! :D

The pod itself didn't alarm the Kree yet, of course not. It was one of theirs, after all. They probably thought one of their scouts had returned, bringing news about Peter or the Resistance. Instead, Peter himself, the head of the Resistance, stepped out of the door. 

He should have been excited like crazy, but he actually wasn't. He felt strangely calm and collected, knowing he was about to face the inevitable. If Ronan wanted to kill him, so be it. They would all be going to die soon if the Kree didn't stop the alien-lizards, anyway. 

At first, nothing happened. Peter stayed where he was, standing in front of the pod, and held up his hands to signal his peaceful intentions. It actually took a couple of minutes until a handful of Kree stormed into the yard.

“Hey there, hey! I come in peace! I come to negotiate!” Peter called instantly as the door to the yard flew open. The Kree were there only seconds later, grabbing both of his wrists and yanking his arms down and behind his back. They really weren't gentle, so Peter groaned in pain. “Easy,” he grunted. “I said I was here to negotiate! I have important information for Ronan! I need to talk to him immediately!”

“Oh, master Ronan will talk to you, do not worry about that,” one of the Kree growled. “But first, you will come with us.”

“It's important,” Peter insisted as they dragged him towards the door. “I need to talk to him as soon as possible. It's about those weird lizard-insect-guys you fight against. I have information about their plans!”

None of the Kree reacted. They either didn't care for what Peter had to say or didn't believe him. Or maybe they didn't have the authority to listen. Who knew. Whatever it was, they jockeyed Peter inside the base and rudely shoved him against the wall. Peter gave a low groan in protest.

“Ouch,” he grumbled. “No need to treat me like that, I already told you I would cooperate.”

Again, the Kree didn't care. One hand remained in Peter's neck to press his cheek against the wall while at least three other hands (mmh, kinky) stripped him of his red leather jacket, his holster, the belt and all the bags he carried. Every weapon, every gadget, every item was taken from him, even the translator in his ear. 

“Stop, I need that!” Peter protested. “That's my translator! I can't understand you without that thing!” 

He heard the Kree talking behind him and it was scary that he didn't understand what they were saying. Finally, they seemed to agree that the gadget really was a translator and plugged it back into Peter's ear. The Terran breathed out in relief.

“Thank you,” he said. “I wouldn't have been of much use without being able to communicate with you.”

“He seems to be clean,” one of the Kree informed another. “But bind his hands before you bring him to master Ronan. We cannot let him escape another time.”

“Come on, I said I'm here on _purpose_ ,” Peter tried to reason with the aliens. But it was in vain. They yanked his arms back once more and then locked his wrists in something cold and hard. Probably handcuffs. Mmh, kinky again.

“Are we done?” Peter wanted to know. “Can we finally go and see Ronan now? Cause what I have to tell him is kinda important and we're just wasting time here. Those alien-lizards might already be on their way, so we better hurry before they reach us. Thanks.”

“Come with us,” one of the Kree demanded. Two of them grabbed Peter's shoulders and pushed him forward, through the hallway. “Master Ronan is already awaiting you.”

“Aaaw, I hope the champagne is still chilled!” Peter cooed. The Kree didn't answer. They weren't the most humorous race out there. 

Walking to Ronan's chambers was so different when you didn't have to crawl through the air ducts. Far less exhausting and somehow nicer. Peter looked around to remember the way, you never knew what you maybe needed it for. 

He didn't know why, but the dark hallways of the Kree felt a lot more comfortable and calming now that he had seen the station of the alien-lizards from the inside. Their shimmery white vibe had been disturbing, far more passive-aggressively threatening. Like a scalpel compared to a sword. But maybe Peter was the proverbial burnt child since he had spent a lot of his time in a hospital when his mother had been sick. Ever since then, white, sterile looking rooms gave him the shivers. 

The Kree didn't even knock, but simply entered Ronan's office. Either someone had already told the Accuser that they were coming or he had given orders that whatever information concerning Peter or the Resistance should be brought to him immediately. Either way, Peter was shoved into the room and Ronan looked up from where he had brooded over something on his screen. 

Peter, of course, wasn't an expert on Kree (though it came pretty close to that, given he had studied them for three years now), but Ronan looked agitated and tired. Just like Peter, he had certainly been up all night and just like Peter, he was probably twisting his mind on what to do right now. Only that he didn't even know yet what was coming for them. And that it wasn't his own fault that said something was coming, but Peter's. And said Peter stood in front of him right now, after having stolen Ronan's plans and having shocked him twice before freeing his prisoners, stealing a pod and escaping to accidentally fuck up Earth's fate altogether. Wasn't it fun to meet again under these circumstances? Answer: no. No, it wasn't. 

“We found Star-Lord, master Ronan,” one of his Kree escorts announced. It pleased Peter greatly every time to hear them use his title like this. Damn right, bitches. He was _Star-Lord!_

“Where did you find him?” Ronan asked. He seemed surprised Peter was here, but Peter could also feel his held back anger. The way the Kree leader walked around his desk to come towards the little group had something of a tiger eyeing his prey, both of them knowing exactly he was about to kill it, but not just yet. Peter shuddered slightly.

“In the courtyard,” the subordinate answered. “He came back with the pod he stole. We took him in immediately.”

“To be correct: I turned myself in,” Peter noted. “I wanted to speak with you.”

Ronan raised his non-existent brows. He wore the black markings all over his face again, but Peter could recognise Ronan's real face he had seen underneath it last night. He would never forget that face again.

Ronan eyed him for quite some time. Peter returned the look steadily, as earnest and open as he could. This was a matter bigger than the strife between the Kree and the Resistance and the personal struggle between both of their leaders. Peter couldn't afford Ronan refusing to talk to him right now. 

“Leave us alone,” Ronan finally ordered. His tone was just as calm as ever, no indication of suppressed anger that he wanted to let out on Peter. But maybe he was just good at self-restriction. 

“Are you certain, master Ronan?” one of the other Kree asked. “Maybe he will try to escape again.”

“I can take care of him myself,” Ronan assured. This time it sounded like a threat.

The two guards left, obviously reluctant to leave their leader alone with the head of the Resistance. Sure, Ronan could crush Peter without even breaking a sweat. But last time Peter had managed to stun him and get away with their plans and one of their ships, so their fear wasn't unfounded.

Peter heard the door closing behind them. Now he was alone with Ronan. The man who most likely wanted to smash his head with his war hammer in front of the entire human population to demonstrate his superiority over the Resistance. Especially after what Peter had done last night. Perfect conditions for a friendly conversation!

His purple eyes were unreadable as he stood there right in front of Peter, looking down on him. Peter swallowed once, then decided to start talking first.

“You probably wonder what this is about,” he began. “Why I let myself get caught after I had managed to escape.”

Ronan didn't answer. Peter slowly started to get nervous.

“Truth is I made a mistake,” he went on. “I wanted to sell the plans I stole to your enemies in exchange for help against your invasion of our planet.”

Ronan still didn't say a word. Peter swallowed once more under his intense glare, but didn't buckle. This was his last chance to really save his planet. He couldn't fuck up this time.

“As it turns out, your enemies have no intention whatsoever to help us. They simply want to beat you, by all means necessary. And my visit there accidentally told them that you have built your base on Terra. So now they plan on destroying Earth, together with every living being that exists here. That includes my people. And the Kree as well, of course. So instead of saving us, I unintentionally handed us all over to those alien-lizards on a silver plate.”

“Halori,” Ronan finally chimed in.

Peter blinked at him in confusion. “What?”

“They are called Halori. Not alien-lizards.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I didn't know that.”

“You go to them for aid so they will wipe us off your planet, yet you don't even know their name?” Ronan asked. Peter felt extremely stupid right now. He had learned so much about the Kree and this war, yet he hadn't known who they were even fighting against. Ronan was right, this was embarrassing.

“Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “Is that important right now? I mean I'm here to warn you there will be an attack on Terra soon, I think the correct name of the guys throwing the bombs doesn't make any difference.”

“So this is what your sudden cooperation is about,” Ronan stated. “You hope that my men will protect your precious kin. Because your Resistance has failed in doing so.”

“Uhm...”

“Let me get this straight,” Ronan interrupted him. “You fight against us, trying your best to get us off of your planet. You thieve from us, you sabotage our ships, you infiltrate our bases, you steal our war plans. You hinder us in winning this war by frustrating our strategy. In four days, we would have been ready to strike and defeat the Halori. But because of your actions, we now aren't able to anymore. Instead, the Halori now know our location and plan to destroy Terra with all of us on it. Something that would not have happened if you and the Resistance would have simply held back. And now that you have caused all of this trouble, you expect us to solve all of this? First, you attack us and keep us from acting out our plans against the Halori, now you beg us to protect you from them? Is that correct?”

Peter squirmed slightly under Ronan's harsh words. He was right, but that didn't mean it was less unpleasant to hear it.

“Yeah, basically,” he confessed. 

Ronan snorted. He turned around to go back to his desk, leaving Peter standing where he was. His arms were still tied behind his back and it felt uncomfortable, yet he didn't dare to ask Ronan to remove the shackles.

“We would have won this war if you wouldn't have sabotaged us,” the Kree accused him and slid his finger over the screen. “We would have left Terra after the war and gone back to Hala. Not only have you thrown us back in our planning, you also caused a disaster. Thanks to you, we might lose this war now. I have more than one good reason to kill you.”

Peter grumbled. “Okay, honestly now,” he replied. “You came here first, invading our planet. Enslaving us. Forcing us to work for you. Throwing us out of our homes. It's not like you were pleasant guests, just stopping by. You can't blame us for trying to get rid of you.”

“I blame you for making it worse,” Ronan told him. “For first ruining our plans and now begging us for help. Help that wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't acted against us.”

“Okay, fine, I get it!” Peter snapped. His patience was laid thin by now. He had had a hard day, there was an army of aliens ready to blow up his planet, and Ronan was huffy like Peter had forgotten to bring him flowers for their anniversary. This was childish! There was no time for being miffed right now! “I fucked up, I'm sorry! We should have just let you do your thing and get lost again! But we didn't know this would happen, okay?! We wanted our freedom back, our home, our planet! Your war with the Halori wasn't our problem! You had no right to come here, using Terra as your base and enslaving my people for your cause! We couldn't fight you ourselves, so we turned to the Halori for help! How should we have known they were even worse than you?! And that they had no clue you had your base on Earth?! Honestly, they had three years to find that out, we couldn't know they hadn't done so yet!”

“We would have left anyway!” Ronan repeated. “We do not intend to stay on your planet forever!”

“And how were we supposed to know?!” Peter countered. “And I repeat: You had no right to be here in the first place! And even if you would leave, our planet would be lost in anarchy and chaos! We had hoped the Halori would help us rebuild it!”

Ronan snorted. “That is horrifyingly naïve,” he claimed. 

“Oh, shut up,” Peter growled back. “We were desperate and that was the only chance we had. You can't expect to just take over a planet without having its inhabitants fight you for that. That it backfired at us was just bad luck.”

“No, it was a poor plan to begin with,” Ronan asserted. 

“Just – … ugh! Will you finally stop being such a diva and do something!” Peter almost went through the roof. “This is serious, we have no time to stand here and bitch at each other! We either work together to stop those maniacs or we will all go up in flames together! I will tell you all that I know and I will do whatever I can to help, but I can't do anything without you, alright?! If it makes you feel better, shock me twice to be even with me, but for God's fucking sake, get up off your ass and _do_ something!”

Ronan stared at him. It was a death glare, able to burn a hole right through Peter's skull. At least it felt like that. But Peter was too wrought up right now to fear Ronan or to take a step back. They had to solve this right now and Ronan's arrogance and self-righteousness were driving him insane. Yes, Peter had fucked up, but if the Kree hadn't landed here, all of this wouldn't even have happened!

After a horribly long time of staring and silence, Ronan slowly came back to him from behind the table and stopped right in front of the Terran. There was hardly space for an outstretched arm between them.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you and let my men handle this situation alone,” the Accuser demanded lowly. For a reason Peter couldn't name, his dark voice sent a shiver down his spine.

“Because we can help you,” he answered. “The Resistance will fight to the death for this planet. It is our home. You said yourself that fighting for your home is what drives you in this war.”

Ronan furrowed his brow and his lower lip stuck out again, apparently a sign he was emotionally moved in some way. If this situation hadn't been so serious, Peter would have giggled. A huge, hunky alien warlord like Ronan pouting, when confronted with anything, was just hilarious. And somehow also pretty cute.

“And also,” Peter went on. “because I spared your life when I had the chance to shoot you. So I think you owe me my life in return.”

Ronan's frown deepened. His eyes wandered over Peter's face, then down his body and back up to the Terran's own eyes. He seemed to consider something. Then he suddenly stirred and stepped around Peter to open up his handcuffs. Peter felt his cool fingers brushing over his own wrists as he pulled the cuffs off of them. As soon as his arms were free, Peter shook them out with a relieved sigh and rubbed his wrists to get rid of the lingering feeling of the metal.

“Thank you,” he said. “That's much better.” He shook his hands again, then clapped them once and turned around to look up at his new partner in crime. “Alright, then!” he cheered. “Let's make a solid plan together to kick some alien asses!”

This time he couldn't help but grin at the expression on Ronan's face.

 

 

 


	10. Building up Trust

“How do I know this is not simply another trick of yours?” Ronan asked. 

“To do what?” Peter wanted to know. He was brash enough to just sit down at the table on one of the chairs. Ronan eyed him disapprovingly. “Do you really think me and my team would have taken the risk to infiltrate your base, steal your plans and commandeer one of your ships just to come here and tell you the Halori will attack soon half a day later? What advantage should we get from that?”

“Maybe you will now try to persuade me that we should free the slaves to gain more soldiers,” Ronan offered. “Or you hope I will lay open all of our strategies and plans so you can steal them too. Or maybe you want to take over this base somehow and hope I will be distracted enough listening to you for your friends to act out your plans. There are many reasons not to trust you, Star-Lord.”

“Peter,” the leader of the Resistance chipped in. “My name is Peter. Peter Quill.” Ronan glared at him with a raised brow. “And like I said, I could have tried to shoot you last night already. Okay, that sounds wrong, but you know what I mean. And I haven't. And trust me, I'm horrible with making complex plans where you make your enemy believe you're honest with them and then it turns out it was all just a trick. My brain isn't twisted enough for that sort of thing.”

Ronan snorted. He was still standing, looking down at his 'guest' opposite of the table. He didn't really know what to think of him just yet.

“I called my friends here,” Peter announced. “The ones you imprisoned and that I freed. They will come here and turn themselves in as well. You will have the entire elite of the Resistance here in your base, and not as intruders this time. We will all hand in our weapons and stuff. We will be completely helpless. We want to work together with you on this, there is no bigger plan.”

“I want information on the Resistance as a reassurance,” Ronan demanded. 

“Okay,” Peter nodded. “Whatever makes you trust me. But seriously, we're only losing time. We should start planning already, I don't know when the Halori will attack.”

“Probably in the next few days,” Ronan replied. “They have five Kheena, spread throughout the area. They need to coordinate the attack before they can start it.”

“Kheena?” Peter asked.

“War stations,” Ronan told him.

“Ah, yeah, I've been on one of them,” Peter nodded. “I talked to someone they called the 'Great Mother'. Is she their queen or something?”

Ronan nodded. “Yes, their leader. And their origin.” 

Peter raised his brows questioningly. Ronan nodded and went ahead to explain.

“The Halori have no planet of their own, they live inside their stations and ships,” he lectured Peter. “No one knows where the Great Mothers came from, but there are several. Each of them owns one of the Kheena, their flying war stations. And each of them gave birth to countless Halori. They travel through the galaxies and hoard supplies. They invade planets and live off their goods until nothing is left before they carry on. They have attacked several planets in the past that belong to the Kree-Empire and are under our protection. We are now on our mission to stop them before they can do even more damage and before they become too much to handle. We need to kill all of the five Great Mothers to make sure the Halori do not survive.”

“So genocide,” Peter clarified. “This war is about genocide.”

Ronan growled, displeased. “This war is about saving my empire from being destroyed by a growing army of parasites,” he corrected. “And not only my empire, but every other planet or alliance as well. If the Halori become too numerous and powerful, they will consume everything. There is no other way to stop them than to eliminate them completely.”

“So to get rid of a bunch of parasites,” Peter summed it all up, “you play parasites on Terra yourself, live off our goods, and leave our planet completely destroyed after you have fought your war. Is that about correct?”

The anger with which Ronan stared Peter down was so intense that Peter was almost certain Ronan could shoot the Halori right from the sky with his eyes. Apparently, every questioning of the Kree's deeds and decisions would upset Ronan immensely. Alright then. No teasing anymore. Peter needed them to get along right now.

“So how do we stop them now? And before we go on, can I maybe get my communicator back to call my little squad and tell them it's safe now to enter your base? They're waiting outside. Then I will also tell you about the Resistance, if that is what it takes to make us all work together.”

Ronan still looked angry and he waited a moment with his reply to make sure Peter acknowledged how grumpy he was. Then he walked over to the door and opened it. Peter heard him talking to the guards, ordering them to get Peter's stuff. Then he returned and this time sat down at the table with Peter.

“Tell me what exactly happened at the Halori,” he requested. “What exactly have you told the Great Mother and what has she told you in return?”

Peter nodded and began to tell Ronan what he had experienced on the station as exactly as he could remember it. Ronan listened closely and every now and then interrupted Peter's story to ask him a question. Peter answered each of them as conscientiously as he could.

After a moment, another Kree came into the room to place all of Peter's items on the table. Peter thanked them with a nod, Ronan didn't react at all. 

“If you don't mind, I'll call my friends then,” Peter said as soon as he had told Ronan everything he knew about the Halori. 

Ronan nodded and reached for a portable screen. “I will tell everyone in the base that they are to be treated as allies. I will not let them be brought into this room yet, though. You are the only member of the Resistance I allow in here for now. They will be escorted to some spare chambers where they can stay.”

Peter sighed. He wanted his friends here with him, but he couldn't ask too much of Ronan yet. He was already glad that the Kree trusted him, he couldn't overdo it. So he nodded and agreed to Ronan's suggestion.

While the Kree contacted his subordinates, Peter activated his communicator and called his friends. Again, it was Gamora answering him.

“Hey, Mora,” Peter greeted her. “Guess what, Ronan just now is telling his men that you're welcome in the base. Give it a few minutes to reach everyone, then you can come over.”

“Okay,” Gamora replied. “Is everything going alright?”

“Yeah, we're fine,” Peter assured. “But, for now, the four of you will have to stay in your assigned rooms. You know, it's only something between the two of us at the moment. Testing the waters, building up trust. Getting to know each other before we get introduced to the entire family and such. You understand.”

Gamora was quiet for a second, but Peter was sure he could hear her facial expression. It had to be the exact same with which Ronan was glaring at him right now. Ugh, why did no one understand his humour!

“If he kills you, I might not even be angry about that,” Gamora finally replied. Rocket laughed in the background and Peter actually had to grin. “But seriously, take care of yourself, Peter. This is the only way to save our planet, so don't screw it up.”

“I won't,” Peter promised, completely serious now. “That's why I'm here, after all. That's why we're all here. To work together on this problem.” Here he cast a meaningful look over at Ronan, who held it without blinking. 

“You will stay in the rooms until Ronan and I have worked through the basics. I'll call you up here as soon as we're done, okay?”

“Okay,” Gamora responded. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

They hung up. Peter felt sorry that his friends had come here for nothing, but he had to respect Ronan's wishes. He had to prove to the Kree that they could trust each other in this and if Ronan, for now, was only comfortable with Peter, then that was how it was. It still felt good to know his friends would be in the same building with him. Maybe he could talk to them later in their rooms.

“Alright, they'll be here in a few minutes,” he informed Ronan. “They agreed to be taken to spare rooms and stay there until they're called for. Is that okay with you then?”

Ronan nodded. His eyes still lingered on Peter with an intense expression that gave Peter the shivers. He wasn't afraid of Ronan, but he certainly was on his toes.

“This is some kind of hostage-taking for you, right?” he asked. “If they misbehave, you're gonna kill me. If I misbehave, you're gonna kill them.”

Ronan lowered his head ever so slightly. He didn't directly answer Peter's question, but the fact that he didn't deny it was a confirmation in Peter's eyes.

“Okay, listen, I don't intend to try anything. I just want to save my planet. And right now, the only way to do so is by working together with you. Trust me, I'm not really eager on that, either. But before we start making any plans –“ He got up and stretched once, yawning. “– I really need to pee, so can I maybe use your bathroom?”

If Peter deserved the Nobel Prize in Being A Failure, Ronan for sure deserved it in Most Hilarious Facial Expressions. Maybe it was because he had this 'real, _real, REAL_ bad guy' vibe about him that it looked so absolutely ridiculous when he cast Peter a glare of shocked disgust. Or maybe it was because he pouted again a little, Peter wasn't sure. Most probably it was both.

“Hey, I haven't been to the toilet for half a day, it's kinda urgent,” Peter explained. “First I had to run from you, then from the Halori... There wasn't much time to empty my bladder. And I can't think straight with that by now really painful pressure in my lower regions. Please, just give me five minutes and I'm ready to start with the planning.”

Ronan's pout grew and was accompanied by a low growl. Peter rolled his eyes. “If it makes you happy, you can come and guard me. I'll leave the door open. Trust me, I lost all sense of shame long ago. But I really need to go to the loo, so please.”

Ronan only stared at him. Peter sighed and came over, leaning right over the Kree to work around on his screen. 

“Alright... here,” he said. “This is the exact location of the Resistance's main hide-out in this area. I gave you something, now you give me something. And this something is a toilet break. Deal?”

Ronan still didn't say anything. Peter thought that he smelled of hot stones and ashes – or maybe smoke – with a hint of lavender. It was an unusual smell, but not quite repelling.

Peter decided to just take Ronan's silence as an allowance to leave and headed for the bathroom. He had been here before, he knew how to get out of the office and to there. Though he hadn't seen the bathroom from the inside before.

It looked... dark. To no one's surprise. But it had a toilet and a sink and that was all that Peter cared for right now. 

He took the little time of privacy to collect his thoughts and calm down a bit. It was going well. Ronan had agreed to work with them and they would find a solution together. Earth would be saved. His people would be protected. There was no reason to panic.

With an emptied bladder (God, the relief!) and washed hands, Peter came back into the office and sunk down on the chair opposite of Ronan. The Kree still looked a little grumpy, but Peter was quite sure by now that this was his standard expression for interacting with the Terran. The Kree leader definitely wasn't used to someone like Peter.

“Okay, now I'm ready for planning,” Peter announced. He got his water bottle out of the pile of his stuff on the table, took a sip and then smiled at Ronan. “So, do you already have an idea? Whatever you're planning, you can count on the Resistance to help you.”

“Good,” Ronan replied. Apparently, he had worked through his shock, finally talking to Peter again. “Because I think we will actually need you to play an important role in defeating the Halori.”

 


	11. Two Leaders, one Goal

As it turned out, it wasn't even that hard to work together with your former enemy.

Peter and Ronan were entirely different: Peter an extroverted and social chatterbox who acted before he thought, loving music and dancing and movies and just having a good time; Ronan a thorough leader who was used to giving orders and being listened to, who spent his time fighting or planning, and who liked things to be earnest and calm. There wasn't much these two didn't disagree on personality wise.

But they had something in common: They both wanted to protect what they loved, to save their people and their planet, and they were both willing to give their life for that cause if necessary. They recognised that in each other very soon, which made it easy to work together on this. Also, Peter could be surprisingly serious when required, which won him a sufficient amount of Ronan's favour.

In the end, they managed to work out a concept of what to do against the looming Halori attack.

  
  


“I'm tiiiired,” Peter whined as Ronan set up the screen. “After this, I need a solid few hours of sleep, let me tell you.”

“Didn't you complain about being hungry a few minutes ago?” Ronan recalled. His blue fingers worked over the holo screen with ease. Peter liked watching them.

“Can't I be both?” he wanted to know. He sat slumped over the table, looking just as boneless as he felt. The past three hours had been nothing but thinking, talking, planning, suggesting, scrapping and thinking anew. His brain felt like run-over mashed potatoes, he almost fell asleep right on the spot.

But Ronan insisted on calling his generals or whatever else (Peter had no clue about Kree military ranks, he just called the next rank under Ronan 'generals' because it sounded legit enough) and setting up a meeting with them and Peter's four friends to share their plan with them and go through the details together. He still didn't allow any Resistance member but Peter in his rooms, so they had decided to move the big meeting to the conference room Rocket, Groot and Peter had broken into.

“Apparently you can,” Ronan acknowledged. Then one of his men answered his call and Ronan started explaining to him that he needed all of his 'generals' as well as the four Resistance members to come together in the conference room in four hours.

“Four hours?” Peter asked. “I thought we would get this over with right now. I need sleep, man! Sleep!”

“I scheduled this meeting for in four hours so you can _get_ sleep,” Ronan informed him. “This meeting will again take hours and you are of no use if you fall asleep during it.”

“Ah, yeah. You're probably right,” Peter admitted. His body gave his approval as well by making Peter yawn heartily. “Thanks, Ro. I can really need a few hours of –“

“Do not call me that,” Ronan interrupted him.

Peter blinked at him in confusion. “What, Ro?” he finally realised. “But that's a nickname. It means we're buddies.”

“You already called me that last night,” Ronan stated. Peter couldn't help but giggle at the way this sounded.

“Yeah, see. I really like you. We get along great. Next thing you call me Pete and then we will get married, providing a safe base on which our people will form a prolific alliance. The first Kree-Terran marriage in the history of ever! Just think about how cool that would be!”

Ronan cast him the same glance Drax always gave him when he assumed Peter was joking but didn't catch the punchline. Peter rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. “Sorry, I'm tired,” he mumbled. “I'll just go to sleep and then will hopefully talk less nonsense after that.”

The Accuser nodded slightly, his expression not changing in the least. “You can use my bed,” he offered. “I still have other matters to take care of.”

Again, Peter blinked at him. “Your bed?” he questioned. “But why? Can't I get a spare room, like my friends? Or I could sleep in their room, too, if that –“

“No. You will stay here,” Ronan determined.

Peter snorted. “Okay, okay, I get it. You won't let me out of your sight. I could still plan something eeeevil with the others. And I thought we had gotten over this.”

“I will wake you in time,” Ronan assured without even going into Peter's remark. “If you need anything, I will be in my office.”

Peter studied Ronan for a moment. It was hard to read his expression under the paint, but it looked serious, concerned, maybe a little challenging, even? But there was still a softness to it that Peter wouldn't expect from him, a softness that was aimed at the tired, hungry, worn-out and yet still determined Terran in front of him. Maybe Peter just imagined it, but he somehow had the feeling Ronan respected his stubbornness and his strong will to fight for his cause, no matter what, even when it meant teaming up with the enemy.

“Thank you,” Peter replied. “But you know, you're probably tired too and need some sleep, so if you want me to sleep on the floor, I can –“

“I am fine. Go to sleep,” Ronan told him.

Peter sighed silently and got up. “Alright, whatever you say, Ro. …nan.” Phew, that had been close. He didn't want to risk the tender bond that was growing between them by enraging the Kree.

They exchanged another nod, then Peter made his way over to the bedroom. He stripped down to his shorts and for a moment thought about cleaning himself up first. But now that the bed was right there in front of him, he couldn't resist sleep any longer. He would wash himself when he woke up, that would revive him. Yes, good plan.

He let himself fall forward, flopping down onto the hard mattress with a sigh. Yeeeees. This felt so good, _so good!_ Finally lying down, finally closing his eyes, finally sleep!

Within seconds he was asleep, drawing in Ronan's scent with every deep breath.

  
  


He hadn't slept well in months, maybe even years. When you were part of the Resistance, you didn't get much sleep for many reasons. Either because you didn't feel comfortable enough to close your eyes for several hours, or because there were too many people around, making noise. Or maybe because you were just too afraid and desperate to not have horrible nightmares as soon as you fell asleep.

Peter had been tired as hell and it was quiet in Ronan's bedroom. He also knew that he didn't have to fear the Kree anymore, yes, he was even sleeping in their leader's own bed. The conditions were better than they had been in a long, long time. Yet he still had nightmares about giant white ants with lizard-heads taking over Earth, hunting him and his friends down and eating them alive. As he felt Ronan's hand on his shoulder, he jerked up with a gasp.

It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and realise he was safe. When he looked up at Ronan, the Kree was eyeing him with a surprisingly understanding expression. Did Kree dream? Did Ronan know what nightmares felt like?

“What time it is?” he muttered hoarsely, his throat dry and rough.

“The meeting is in half an hour,” Ronan informed him. “I thought you might want to use the remaining time to wash yourself and eat something.”

Peter nodded and took a deep breath to relax. Ronan's hand still lay on his shoulder and its weight unconsciously provided him with safety. “Yeah, thanks,” he replied. “I'd love that. Just a quick shower and one or two bites.”

“The food is in my office,” Ronan told him. “Use the bathroom for as long as you want. But we will leave when it's time, whether you're ready or not.”

“Understood.”

Ronan pulled his hand away and only now did Peter notice it had still been there. He looked after the Kree as he left his own bedroom and then closed his eyes once more with a heavy sigh. He still felt groggy and exhausted, but at least the threat of falling asleep on the spot wasn't there anymore.

He got up and shuffled over to the bathroom. The shower was nothing more than a shower head over a drain, but what more did Peter need? He shook off his shorts and wiped his hand over the sensory field. A second later, he jumped back with a yelp and hopped up and down on the spot.

“What the shit, the water is _cold!_ ” he called.

“We only use cold water,” Ronan called back from the office. “Get used to it.”

“How can I get used to that?!” Peter whined.

“Wash yourself or not,” was Ronan's cruel reply. No wonder the Kree were as harsh as they were when they only ever showered under ice cold water...

Every fibre of Peter's being refused to, but he still gritted his teeth and stepped back under the cold water. There was no helping it, he desperately needed a shower. After that, he would at least be awake, that was for sure.

The Kree soap burnt on his skin, but after the shower, Peter felt cleaner than he had in years. As he looked at his clothes, he pulled a face. “Ronan?” he called from the Kree's bedroom.

“What is it?” Ronan replied.

“Hey, can I borrow some of your clothes, maybe? Mine are all filthy and after the shower, I don't want to put them back on.”

There was a long silence following his words. Then he heard footsteps and Ronan appeared in the doorway. Once again, his expression was bewildered and he pouted a little. He eyed Peter from head to toe, in all his naked glory, hair still damp and sticking out in all directions. Peter knew he was incredibly handsome (yes, incredibly), tall and well-shaped. But under Ronan's eyes, he felt his usually very healthy self-esteem wither.

“You know, I don't have other clothes with me,” he tried to explain himself. Insecurity made his voice tremble, though he didn't even know what exactly he was so uncomfortable with right now. Maybe it was the way Ronan stared at him with his bright, purple eyes without saying anything.

“See it like this: If I'm wearing your clothes, you can at least be sure I have nothing hidden in any secret pockets,” he offered. But even in his own ears that sounded weak.

Ronan still didn't say anything. Peter by now had the feeling that the Kree was often wondering things to himself without voicing them, and then showing his decision with his actions rather than words. He did it again right now, as he walked over to the conterminous chamber (apparently it was a clothing room after all) and rummaged around in it for a while. When he came out, he threw a set of black pants and a black shirt over at Peter. Peter had never seen a Kree out of their armour, but this seemed to either be some sort casual clothing or it was meant to be worn underneath the armour. Either way, the clothes were fresh and clean and Peter preferred them over his dirty, overused own.

“Thank you so much,” he sighed in relief. “Putting on filthy clothes after a shower is disgusting.”

Ronan only nodded ever so slightly. Peter slipped into Ronan's pants and shirt and looked down at himself. The clothes were a bit too large for him, as Ronan was taller and also more muscular. But it wasn't too bad, it would work.

He shoved his feet back in his boots and then smiled at Ronan. “Didn't you say something about food?” he recalled.

The Kree nodded slightly again. “In the office,” he responded. “Help yourself.”

“Awesome!” Peter scurried over into the office where a few dishes had been arranged on the table. Peter had never tried Kree food before – well, technically it wasn't Kree food, but Terran food dressed Kree-style – but the smell made his mouth water. He had eaten some of his supplies on his flight, but that had been ages ago and he was starving. As he sat down on his chair and peered into the nearest bowl, he did a quick estimate on how much time had passed since the beginning of this mission.

The infiltration, waiting under Ronan's bed for almost an hour, fleeing, flying over to the Halori war station for four hours, talking to the Great Mother, fleeing again, flying back to Earth for another four hours, making plans with Ronan for three hours, then sleeping for three and a half hours... wow. That was something like 17 hours. No wonder he was exhausted and hungry.

He grabbed the cutlery and started shovelling the food into his mouth. It tasted like... hell, he couldn't even define it. It was spicy and hearty and it tasted amazing, but maybe that was just because Peter was hungry as hell. The drink in the cup beside his plate tasted like mild, cold tea.

Ronan stayed in his bedroom until it was time to leave. When he appeared in the doorway, Peter swallowed the last bit of food and washed it down with a big mouthful of the drink.

“Alright, finished,” he announced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It's time to go, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Ronan confirmed.

“Thought so.” Peter got up and licked his lips once to savour the still lingering taste of his meal. Then he looked over at Ronan and shot him a smile. “Let's go then, shall we?” he asked. “Introducing you to the family before the big marriage!”

Ronan pouted and shot him a death glare. Peter laughed as he walked over to the door and left the office, his soon-to-be-but-not-really-husband right on his heels.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, check this out: http://staraccusevents.tumblr.com/post/157690929677/yes-its-really-happening-folks-staraccuser  
> Staraccuser Week is coming! :)


	12. Plans and Reassurances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff going on in real life right now, sorry for the seldom updates. Thanks for sticking around <3

Two things happened as they entered the conference room: Gamora got up to first give Peter's stomach a soft punch and then hug him with a relieved: “You're the biggest idiot in the galaxy!”; and Drax got up to throw himself at Ronan with an angry yell, ready to punch him in the face.

“Drax!” Peter called in shock. “Don't!”

But Ronan was faster than any of them. His hand shot out to grab Drax's fist before Peter was even done shouting, and he had twisted Drax's arm behind his back, holding the man by the throat before anyone could realise it. Drax squirmed in the strong blue arms, growling, but he had no chance against Ronan's grip.

The Kree kept a completely straight face as he held the raging man. He looked neither confused nor angry nor anything else, he was entirely calm. For a moment, he eyed the Resistance member inside his arms, then he looked over at Peter. The Terran didn't really know how to act and just stared back at Ronan with the most apologetic expression he could master.

“I'm sorry,” he stuttered. “Drax's family works in the factories and he's really angry about that and when he saw you he just lost it, that was no planned assassination attempt or something, it was just a spontaneous loss of self-control, you know, and he –“

“It is good,” Ronan interrupted him. “This actually convinces me that you are not planning for anything, or he would not have dared to sabotage it like this.” He let go of Drax's throat and shoved him away. Drax turned around right away, ready to jump at Ronan once more, but this time Groot grabbed him by the shoulder.

“It's no use,” he told him, and as always when Groot gave one of his seldom and very short bits of advice, they worked wonders. Somehow people tended to listen more closely to someone who rarely spoke.

“Well done, Drax,” Rocket droned from his seat. He was the only one of the present Resistance members still sitting and apparently also the only one in the entire room who was amused by the situation. “Never thought it would happen, but your kill-or-die personality for once saved us all.”

“You're one to talk right now,” Gamora snorted. “Your personality is just the same.”

Rocket grinned and winked at her and Gamora rolled her eyes. Peter had missed them all so much.

Groot dragged Drax back down onto his chair and kept his hand on the other man's shoulder for a while longer, just to be sure. Drax shot death glares at Ronan and repeatedly clenched his fists under the table, but, for now, he stayed in his chair. He looked though as if he could lose it again any second.

Peter and Ronan exchanged a glance. Ronan gave a small nod, so Peter turned towards the table to address their audience. Apart from the four Resistance members, three Kree were gathered around the table and a few screens were set up so that six more Kree could attend the meeting from wherever they were located on the planet.

“Alright, uh”, the Terran began. “Hi. My name is Peter Quill, some of you may know me as Star-Lord, head of the Resistance. As you all know, we fought against the Kree since you arrived here, to free and protect our planet and our people. We even infiltrated your base to steal war plans and sell them to the Halori, in exchange for a promise to help us defeat you and rebuild our planet. This plan backfired horribly though and now the Halori know that the Kree bases are set on Terra and plan on destroying the planet. That is, of course, something neither of us wants, so Ronan and I agreed to work out a plan together to stop the Halori attack, protect Earth, and make the Kree win this war. This way our planet stays safe and you... well, win this war. After that, the Kree will leave Terra alone and everything goes back to normal. Hopefully. Maybe we will find a nice way to figure this out together, too. But first priority right now is to ward off this attack and save us all. So there. Uh. Yeah. Ronan's gonna introduce our plan now and then we can all work to perfect it.”

Rocket almost started applauding, but a glare from Gamora kept him from it. Peter slightly shook his head and took a step back to let Ronan do the talking. He only hoped that his friends (especially Drax and Rocket) would hold back and not enrage the Kree, or this would all go to pieces.

Ronan rose to speak and Peter looked at him from where he stood angled behind him, his hands on his hips. It was weird, but in the short amount of time they had worked together, Ronan's dark voice had already become soothing to him, bringing up a sense of confidence and reliance that all would work out and turn good in the end with his help. Smiling slightly, he listened to the Kree talking and enjoyed the calmness that settled in his guts.

  
  


The meeting took hours. By the end of it, Rocket had worked out a specific nickname for each present Kree and Peter's upper body lay sprawled over the table in exhaustion. Of course, the Resistance had long planning sessions too in which they talked about their ideas and strategies and how to execute them. But that was different than sitting in a room with four plus six Kree, all of them completely humourless and annoyed by the behaviour of their new allies, talking really serious business with really serious people, and being tired as fuck.

After six hours, all of them were at the end of their tether. The plan was ready to be acted out, the preparations would be initiated right away. But everyone who had attended this meeting needed a serious break now, especially from each other.

Peter wanted to go with his friends, but Ronan stopped him. “You will stay with me,” he ordered as he grabbed the Terran's arm. Peter gave him a confused look. “I may trust you enough to work with you to defeat the Halori, but I feel better when I know where you are and what you are doing in this base.”

“Ah, so still hostages, huh?” Peter sighed. “Okay, whatever. As long as I can sleep somewhere. Four hours weren't enough for what I just went through.”

“I will order for another bed in my chambers,” Ronan announced.

“Dude, thanks, but you really don't have to do that,” Peter assured. “I won't go anywhere and I won't do anything. You don't need to keep an eye on me all the time. Especially since I could just leave your chambers anyway as soon as you're asleep, so there's no sense in that.”

Ronan stared at him in a way that made it clear that if Peter would leave the Accuser's chambers without permission, Ronan would tear his head off and smash it under his foot.

Maybe, Peter thought, Ronan felt the same way about the chief of the Resistance as Peter felt about the leader of the Kree. They were partners now, they had decided together that their 'armies' would be allies in this final battle and each of them was the other's reassurance that it would work. Just as Ronan gave Peter confidence, maybe he gave Ronan confidence too. Maybe Ronan was just as concerned about his people as Peter was about his, and having Peter close to him gave him the feeling that things would turn out okay, because of their joined plan.

Or maybe he just was an ass and didn't trust Peter the tiniest bit. Who knew.

“Ooookay,” Peter agreed, holding up his hands appeasingly. “I will stay in your rooms, no matter what, until you allow me to leave. Alright? Is that alright? Good. Let's go then, I really need some more sleep. And I bet you could use some as well, given you probably haven't slept in like two days.”

Ronan grunted lowly, but at least he didn't protest. The others looked over to them, so Peter smiled in their direction and shrugged. “I have my own room,” he lied to them. “Gonna have a nap there now. See you later! Get some sleep!”

Gamora and Drax frowned, displeased. Rocket called after them: “Use a condom! We don't want you to get space STDs!” before Groot could stop him. With an annoyed growl, Peter rolled his eyes and followed Ronan out of the room. Hopefully, Ronan's translator hadn't gotten that right.

  
  


They walked back to Ronan's rooms. Two lower ranked Kree brought in a second bed as promised (it wasn't as big as Ronan's, more of a cot, but for Peter it was sufficient) as well as other items Peter might need, like towels, a Kree gadget for oral hygiene, fresh clothes and other handy stuff. Peter thanked them, which seemed to confuse them. Apparently, amenities weren't part of the Kree culture.

They had had a small break to eat, so Peter at least wasn't hungry. After he had cleaned his teeth, he undressed and climbed into his very own new bed. Ronan was still in his office, Peter could hear him talk to someone over his screen. He caught himself being concerned about the Kree's well-being. Of course, Kree were tougher than Terrans, but they still needed sleep and Ronan for sure had been awake for far too long already. But who was Peter to tell the leader of the Kree when to go to bed?

Sighing, he pulled the blanket (he was thankful he got one, as Ronan slept without a blanket) over himself and nestled down into the mattress. Now he could sleep for as long as he needed. Or for as long as Ronan let him. Either way, he would savour every second.

He closed his eyes with a low, comfortable grunt and took a deep breath. Then he drifted off into sleep, Ronan's dark voice coming over from the office lulling him.

 


	13. You and I

As Peter woke up, Ronan was lying in his bed, fast asleep. There were maybe two metres of space between their beds, so Peter had a safe distance to the sleeping man. Still, he didn't dare to get up, because he didn't want to wake him. Instead, he stayed right how he was, lying on his side with his arm under his cheek, and just watched Ronan sleep.

The Kree looked calm, but not relaxed. He lay on his back again, his chest heaving and sinking with every slow breath. Peter remembered how he had stood in front of his bed a good day ago, pondering whether to shoot him or not. If he had, things would have gone very differently, especially concerning the recent team-up. Still, that wasn't the main reason why Peter was glad he hadn't decided to kill the Kree.

There was no window in the room, so Peter had no idea what time it was or how long he had slept. But he felt well-rested and a little bit fuzzy, so he must have slept for a sufficient amount of time. Yawning, he ruffled his own hair and then stretched once with a low but happy noise at which he flopped onto his back.

“I hear you are awake,” Ronan stated from beside him.

Peter turned his head and twisted his lips. “Aw, sorry, man,” he apologised. “Did I wake you? You really have an accurate ear, huh.”

“It is alright,” Ronan assured him. “I went to sleep shortly after you.”

“Still sorry,” Peter said. “If you want to, I will leave the room and you can go back to sleep.” He turned around onto his side completely again and shoved his arm back under his head for comfort. Ronan's eyes were still closed and he hadn't moved an inch. He wasn't even blinking. The only proof he was really awake was him talking.

“No, it is fine,” he claimed. “I have slept long enough.”

Peter nodded, even though Ronan couldn't see it. “How long do Kree normally sleep?” he wanted to know. “On Terra, days have 24 hours and we sleep about 8 hours in a row. How do Kree do it?”

“Normally,” Ronan answered, “we sleep for about the same amount of time. Though a day on Hala has 27 hours.”

“Oh, cool,” Peter exclaimed. “Do you have months and years as well, like we do?”

“Of course. But we use a slightly different system to organise our year than months and weeks.”

“Really? Which one?” Peter was curious. He didn't know much about the Kree, except for what he had learned from this invasion, and now that they weren't enemies anymore, he was interested in the Kree's culture and daily routine for a whole different reason. How cool was it to learn about the life of an alien species? This was like a sci-fi movie coming true!

“We use phases and cycles which turn into periods which turn into ages,” Ronan taught him. “A phase is the time it takes for our moon to change its colour once. Usually, it's dark, but it turns bright yellow every phase. When it has turned black again, the phase is over.”

“Cool, and what are cycles?”

“I was about to explain that,” Ronan said.

“Oh, sorry,” Peter mumbled. “Go ahead.”

“Cycles describe the time it takes our moon to circulate once on its orbit, much like your months. During this time, it can have several phases, of course.” Peter nodded, even though Ronan still didn't see it. “Then a period is the time it takes Hala to circle our sun, much like your years. And finally, an age is defined by our current emperor and is as long as the duration of his reign.”

“Are all of your emperors male?” Peter kept on asking. “Or has there been an empress once?”

“No, it is exclusively meant for male members of the highest ranks” Ronan explained. “We have a strong system of how our society is organised.”

“Let me hear it,” Peter demanded. He liked listening to Ronan talking about his people. There was a warm undertone in his voice that bespoke how much he loved his home.

“Ranks are very important,” Ronan told him. “Who is born low has hardly any chance to rise up. No one marries outside of their rank. The family's honour and status have to be upheld at all costs.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Peter commented. The Accuser grunted lowly to silence him so he could go on.

“Our society is highly patriarchal. Women have no saying in political matters. Their only contribution to the high society is to be married properly and connect families. And to of course give birth to the heir. There is no way a woman would ever be allowed to become the leader of the Kree Empire.”

“So you're sexist to the core,” Peter established. “Let me guess, the woman cooks and cleans and raises the kids?”

“Not necessarily,” Ronan negated. “In the high ranks, servants keep the house. But it is the wife's task to take care of all domestic matters, so her husband can concentrate on his public life. In lower ranks, sometimes women have to work to earn enough money, but they are never allowed to take on any public jobs or interfere in public affairs.”

“I see,” Peter hummed. “So individuals are very limited in your society, based on their gender and their rank.”

“You call it limited, I call it stability and order. A society works better when everyone knows their place and what their task is.”

Peter had to bite back his thoughts concerning this as to not enrage Ronan. He had a _very_ different point of view, but he couldn't afford an argument with Ronan right now. It wouldn't change anything anyway. So he simply nodded again.

“So you're of extremely high rank then, right?” he asked instead. “Being the commander in chief for this war.”

“Yes, indeed I am,” Ronan confirmed. “My father held this rank before me, now it is mine to take care of. It is an honour beyond compare, hardly anyone apart from the emperor has a higher and more prestigious status.”

“Is he dead then? Your father?”

Ronan was quiet for a moment. Peter feared he had gone too far with this question, but then the Kree answered it after all. “Yes,” he replied lowly. “He died in a war many years ago. He trained me to take over his task and I replaced him as soon as he had fallen. He was a great warrior, he left big shoes to fill.”

Now it was Peter who was silent for a bit because he didn't know what to say. It was strange to suddenly learn something about Ronan's past and private life. It somehow made him more real. And also there had been this certain tone in his voice that made Peter realise that this man had adored his father and it had been hard for him to cope with his loss. Peter knew that feeling. He still suffered from it every day.

“If you win this war, he can be proud of you,” he muttered. His voice was thick because his throat had tightened up. He cleared it once more to get rid of the disturbing feeling.

Ronan gave a low sound that was somewhat between a growl and a hum. Peter didn't know whether that was good or not, so he stayed quiet again for a moment, overstrained with the situation. He didn't know Ronan, he had no idea how to handle him right now.

After another moment, he simply said: “My mum died when I was a kid. She was very sick. I never got over her death.”

A heavy silence fell between them. Peter swallowed several times to dampen his dry throat. His face felt hot and for a second, he thought about getting up and leaving. But Ronan spoke again before he could do so.

“I am sorry,” he announced and that statement gave Peter's heart a hot sting. He had never expected the leader of this invasion to tell him he was sorry for Peter's personal loss. He had never thought Ronan even could be sorry about anything. Feeling empathy for anyone. He swallowed once more and closed his fingers around some folds of the sheets.

“What about your father?”

“He left before I was even born,” Peter muttered. Their talk had suddenly gotten very painful, also for him. “Never got to know him. I just know that his name was Jason, like my middle name.”

Ronan pondered for a second. “So your full name is Peter Jason Quill then?” he guessed.

“Yeah, actually,” Peter nodded. “Though I prefer Peter or Quill or Star-Lord. That's a nickname my mum gave me... I use it wherever I can.”

“I see,” Ronan acknowledged. “I thought it was some sort of title. Like Ronan the Accuser.”

“That is such a badass nickname, by the way,” Peter claimed, glad to finally be able to change the subject. “Where did you get that from?”

“It is a title,” Ronan corrected. “I got it from defending my people's laws and traditions in a prior war, as I accused our enemies of endangering them.”

“Oooh, I see. Do you have a last name too? Or is it just Ronan and your title?”

“It used to be Ronan Ankanur, as my father's name was Kanur. Now it's simply Ronan the Accuser.”

“Ah, so like Nordic names,” Peter mused. “Björnson and stuff. That's cool.”

“I have no idea what you are implying, but I am glad you understand the concept,” Ronan stated. The sentence was filled with so much dry sarcasm that Peter had to giggle. Who knew the Accuser had a sense of humour?

“How about your wife?” he wanted to know. “Is there any indication who she's married to from her title or last name?”

“... I am not married,” Ronan replied. Peter had the feeling he had insulted him a little with this question.

“You're not?” he asked, surprised. “But I thought you were such a good catch. Extremely high rank, amazingly good looking, strong, attractive, smart. How is someone like you not married yet? I mean come on, are they all blind on Hala?”

Ronan finally opened his eyes. That was... probably a bad sign. Maybe Peter had seriously insulted him now, but he really was curious about this. Ronan was like the George Clooney of the Kree or something, _everyone_ should be wanting to marry him. Hell, _Peter_ would marry him, and he wasn't even from Hala!

“I have not chosen a woman to marry yet,” Ronan replied, very slowly and calmly, which showed he really was angry about something. Maybe Peter had just questioned his virility or something, who knew. Kree were strange, obviously.

“Well, good,” he joked before he even knew it. “Then we can still get married to seal this new alliance!”

Ronan slowly turned his head to face Peter. He didn't know whether Ronan intended to roast him with his glare, but he could practically smell his flesh burning.

“That was a joke,” he mumbled. “I just tried to be funny... Are same-sex marriages even allowed on Hala?”

Ronan eyed him for a moment longer, in a way that made Peter feel judged. He swallowed once more, but didn't look away.

“No, they are not,” Ronan answered his question. “But many Kree have same-sex relationships outside of their marriage. It is very common for women to sleep with other women before they marry, as they are not allowed to sleep with a man other than their husband, to prevent them from giving birth to a bastard. Many men settle rivalries by domineering the inferior subject. Some Kree fall in love with someone of the same sex and stay attached to them without a marriage. But a marriage is only meant between a man and a woman, as it is the legal ground for an heir. Also, since a man is the carrier of the public reputation, it is impossible for two men to share their state, as each of them has to maintain their own.”

“So on Hala, it's completely fine for a man to marry a woman, have a child with her, but be in love with another man and have a relationship with him?” Peter tried to get it straight.

“It is not uncommon,” Ronan replied, even though it was not really answering Peter's question.

He nodded either way. “So you have that then?” he wanted to know. “A male lover?”

Ronan frowned, displeased. “I do not,” he told him. “I have no time for a committed relationship, I have to fight wars for my people.”

“I see,” Peter quickly tried to appease him. “Sure. Your job is important and time-consuming. I get it.” He needed to change the subject again, Ronan didn't seem to like talking about his love life. “Tell me more about Hala, then. What's it like there? How does it look? Is it much different from Earth?”

The Kree studied him for another moment before he sat up on his bed. He had slept entirely naked and Peter couldn't help but contour his muscular shape with his eyes. He had never seen anyone this attractively buff.

“Come with me, I will show you pictures,” Ronan requested as he got up completely. “We can talk some more during breakfast.”

“Excellent,” Peter exclaimed. He wasn't so sure himself whether he referred to Ronan's suggestion with that or to the Kree's glorious butt that he was staring at while Ronan walked over to the bathroom. Damn, this man was fine from every side.

Peter got up himself and put on the clothes he had borrowed from his new friend yesterday. Then he waited for Ronan to come back so he could use the bathroom too. The Kree didn't take too long and Peter smiled at him when he came back. Ronan didn't return the smile, but Peter imagined that the look he gave him was a friendly one.

While Ronan got dressed in the clothing chamber, Peter paid the bathroom a visit and then walked over into the office. To his surprise, he found his clothes freshly washed and folded on the table. Nice! Now he could wear them again if he wanted to! For now, he would stay in Ronan's clothes, though. He was too lazy to change and he kinda enjoyed wearing them. It gave him a feeling like they were bonded somehow.

When Ronan came to join him in the office, he was wearing his black paint again. Peter was sitting on a chair by now and cocked his head with a slight smile.

“What does this paint mean?” he wanted to know. “Does every Kree have their own individual mark? Or are there several different designs that mean something? Or is it random?”

“The facial markings show the rank and status of its bearer,” Ronan explained as he sat down. “Mine are the marks of the military leader, so no one but me bears this pattern.”

Peter nodded. “Cool,” he commented. “Which pattern would I wear?”

Ronan snorted as he typed something up on his screen. “Rebels don't have a pattern,” he stated. “Guessing from what I know about you, you would either completely ignore the usage of facial markings and wear none, or you would invent your own pattern.”

Peter had to smile widely. “You actually know me pretty well,” he claimed. “I probably would invent my own pattern.”

The Accuser snorted again and kept working around on the screen. Finally, he swished it over to Peter to have a look at it.

Peter sat up in his chair to see what Ronan had handed him there. It was pictures of Hala, of cities and buildings, of parks and places, of temples and factories, of ships and weapons, of people and animals and of their daily surroundings. Peter smiled again and looked up at Ronan.

“Thank you,” he said. “That's super awesome. Will you explain to me what I'm looking at in particular?”

“If you wish,” Ronan agreed. He got up and walked around the table to sit in the chair next to Peter. The leader of the Resistance moved the screen to the side a little so Ronan had a better view at it.

“Thanks,” he repeated himself. “That's really cool. Now, what am I looking at here?”

“A theatre,” Ronan told him.

Until the breakfast arrived and even long after they had swallowed their last sip of coffee, Peter and Ronan went through the pictures and talked about a culture far away on another planet.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember Staraccuser Week! :)  
> staraccusevents.tumblr.com


	14. The last night on Earth

Ronan was certain that it would take the Halori at least one more day until they would be able to attack.

Up until now, this war had been nothing more than testing the waters, collecting information, warding off attacks and keeping the other party busy. The Kree had worked on their strategy and plans to defeat the Halori once and for all from Earth, the Halori had used the time to stock up supplies and weapons by using their well-tried technique of robbing other planets. Neither of them had been ready yet for a serious strike.

Then, Peter had stolen the plans and shit had gone down and now both parties were forced to act. The Halori now knew the Kree were ready to attack and had to thwart that, and the Kree knew the Halori wanted to blow up the entire planet they currently resided on and of course had to thwart that too.

The problem for the Halori was that their Kheena weren't meant to be warships. They were built for living in them and stocking huge amounts of goods. They were defended only by the ships surrounding them, the ships Peter had seen up close. But those ships, the fighters, were actually too small to carry the bombs, so the Kheena had to come close to Earth to drop them themselves. But the bombs were not yet ready to be used, as the Great Mother had told Peter herself. And to prime thousands of bombs would take a while. So Ronan's prognosis was that the attack would start at some time tomorrow.

Now Ronan took care that the Kree and the Sakaaran would be ready to fight by then and that the weapons and defence mechanisms were prepared. The enslaved humans would be brought into protected areas to keep them safe from potential bomb droppings or other attacks. It had been debated whether or not they should be asked to help in the fight, but the chances were low that they would be willing to work together with the people who had enslaved them. It was too risky to ask them, one person could bring the whole enterprise down.

The Resistance, on the other hand, was allowed, no, even required to help. They played a very important role in the plan they all had come up with together, a role that was essential for the entire strategy to work. Also, they knew how human machines and weapons worked and could teach the Kree how to use some of them to their advantage. They knew Terra better than the Kree and could help them locate the best spots for a strategic set-up. And, most importantly, the Halori didn't expect them to participate in this fight. If their plan worked out, the Resistance could make a significant difference.

  
  


After their drawn-out breakfast, Ronan went back to planning and ordering his men around, so Peter grabbed his communicator and settled on his cot to call his friends. It took a moment until one of them answered, but then he heard Gamora's voice through the speaker.

“Hey, Peter,” she greeted him. “Are you alright? We were worried about you already.”

“Nah, I'm fine,” Peter assured her. “Sorry I didn't call you earlier, I was talking with Ronan.”

“You two seem to get along pretty great,” Gamora stated. Peter wasn't sure if she meant that as a reproach, a joke, or simply a conclusion.

“Actually, yeah,” he admitted. “Comes in handy when you have to work together, doesn't it?”

“Yes, it does,” Gamora agreed. Again, Peter couldn't identify the tone of her words.

“How is it going for you?” he wanted to know. “Are the Kree treating you nicely? Is everything alright? I can tell Ronan to –“

“We left the base two hours ago,” Gamora interrupted him.

Peter was so perplexed that he couldn't do anything but blink a few times for a moment. “You left?” he asked then. “Already?”

“Yes, already,” Gamora confirmed. “Now we're back at the base and are getting our part of the plan done. Or are at least trying to.”

“Wow... How is it going?”

“Ah, pretty well so far, actually. I'm positive we'll get it done in time.”

“Awesome,” Peter smiled. “Ronan is currently getting his part of the plan done as well. Seems the only deedless person here is me.”

“No one is surprised, Quill,” Rocket shouted from the background. Gamora groaned and Peter laughed. No matter how serious the situation, no one could deflate Rocket's sass.

“Not gonna lie, we could use you here,” Gamora confessed. “People are asking where you are and what's going on. They are concerned and confused and they miss you.”

“Aw, shit, I'm sorry,” Peter grunted. “But I can't leave here, Ronan needs me by his side. You know, for the planning, the coordination with the Resistance, the Terran insider information and stuff. We talked about it yesterday, as you might remember, I really can't –“

“Peter,” Gamora cut him off. “I know. I was there. I wasn't accusing you of anything, I just said it would be nice to have you here.”

“Eh... yeah, it definitely would,” Peter mumbled. Why was he so defensive about his relationship with Ronan? He hadn't done anything wrong. “But you can do this, I trust you,” he quickly went on. “I know you can. And tomorrow – or whenever – we will kick those alien asses so hard they will still feel it in the afterlife.”

This made Gamora laugh, which in return made Peter feel relieved for whatever reason. Somehow, he felt like he had done something forbidden and needed Gamora to tell him it was okay.

“Okay, then I won't keep you from your hard and very important work any longer,” he said with forced cheer. “Call me when there's any news or any trouble, okay? I will let you know how things are going here as well. Together, we will rock this.”

“Don't we always?” Gamora asked and this time Peter could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile as well.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he affirmed. “Now off to work, Miss Alien-Killer, deadliest woman of the universe! Make your people proud!”

“Shut up, Quill,” Gamora chuckled and then hung up. Peter grinned to himself as he stuffed the communicator into his pocket and rolled out of bed.

Ronan was still busy in the office, so Peter joined him there and had a look over his shoulder.

“Can I do anything to help?” he offered.

“Actually, yes,” Ronan agreed. “Look at this chart and tell me what you think of it.”

“Sure,” Peter nodded. He leaned over Ronan's shoulder to have a better look at the screen. Ronan's scent filled his nose once more with every breath and, for a moment, distracted Peter completely. Then, he managed to concentrate on the screen in front of him again.

“Yeah, looks good,” he mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “Those are the protection shields, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome. Okay, then these are the ships and here's the base... What about ground control?”

“Here.”

“Excellent. Do you mind if I...?”

“Not at all, help yourself.”

“Cool, thanks.” Peter sat down on the chair beside Ronan and scooted closer to the table. The Accuser turned the screen a bit to the side so Peter had better access to it. The Terran opened up a separate layer and started moving stuff around. Ronan watching him closely.

They worked back and forth like this, Ronan making the plans for his troops, Peter adding his suggestions or ideas. Gamora and then Rocket both called once and Peter called them back three times in return. Ronan, on his side, called his generals and other important Kree whenever there was something new to tell them. Bit by bit, they managed to get the entire plan working, with all parties involved.

In between, they got themselves coffee (as it turned out, Kree _loved_ coffee. Black. No sugar, no milk) and something to eat. Peter had hated yesterday's planning session with all the other Kree around, but working together with just Ronan like this was much more pleasant. He wasn't afraid of Ronan, but simply respected him and he had the feeling that Ronan was respecting him in return. Peter didn't know why exactly, but he didn't question it.

After several long hours, everything that could be done for now had been done. It was already night time and they agreed to sleep until things would get serious tomorrow. The Kree had set up spy pods in the sky which would alarm them as soon as the Halori were close, but for now, there was nothing in sight. Given that the Kheena were a lot slower than the Kree pods of which Peter had used one to get to them and back, this meant they had at least six hours left until their enemies would arrive. Enough time to get some rest for the big showdown.

Peter went to bed immediately while Ronan had a shower first. Peter heard the water run as he snuggled in under the blanket and closed his eyes. Maybe this was the last time he would ever close his eyes, he thought. Maybe their plan would fail tomorrow and the Halori would really succeed in killing every person on Earth's surface. Maybe tomorrow, he would die.

Oddly enough, he wasn't even afraid of death. Sure, he loved his life and he would fight until his last breath to defend it. But all he really cared about was the freedom of his planet and the well-being of his friends. He would rather die than to let anything happen to them.

That was a nice and heroic attitude, probably, and Peter was proud of it. All the heroes and heroines in the movies he had watched would be proud of him too, and his mum of course as well. When he died, he would see her again, so maybe that was the biggest reason why he wasn't afraid to go.

What concerned him a little though was that the thought of spending his possibly last night on Earth next to Ronan the Accuser was actually bringing a little smile upon his lips.

 


	15. We are out of Tea and Back Rubs

Everything was quiet when Peter woke up. No alarms, no bombs, no shooting or any other signs of a war having broken out. Still, he jerked up with a gasp, looking around in panic for a few seconds until he realised nothing was off. It was alright. Everything was alright. It had only been a bad dream.

“Can't sleep?”

Peter turned his head to look over at Ronan. The light band on the wall shone dimly, casting off just enough light to be able to see. Ronan was lying on his side, looking back over at Peter with a calm expression. Peter didn't know whether he had woken him with his sudden movement or whether the Kree had been awake before.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head slightly. “No, had a bad dream,” he mumbled. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“It is alright,” Ronan assured. “I know how it feels to wait for the inevitable battle. It is the worst part of every war. That and having to search for your dead men after the battle.”

Peter nodded slightly and let his hands sink down. “I can imagine,” he claimed. “I lost some of my men and women too. And I have waited for big and important things to happen, like big missions or great chances to do something. But nothing like this, not a real battle. I thought I was fine with it, but huh. The nightmare proved me wrong, I guess.”

He heard Ronan shift in his bed slightly before he answered. “There's no shame in being concerned before a battle,” he said. “There is only shame in letting fear take over and render you useless.”

“I don't think that's the case,” Peter stated. “I can handle this when it comes, it's just... the uncertainty of what _will_ come and what will be left after all of this.”

“I understand,” Ronan replied.

Peter nodded and sighed again before he flopped back down onto the bed. “What time is it anyway? How long have I slept?” he asked.

“Five hours,” Ronan responded. “It's still dark outside.”

“Mmmh, I could use a hot tea and a back rub,” Peter whined and placed his arm over his eyes. “Or a good movie to distract me. Or sex. Works wonders as well against being nervous.”

Ronan didn't answer to his words. Peter didn't think anything was off, until he heard Ronan getting out of bed and the low tapping of his bare feet on the ground. As he lifted his arm, Ronan was standing right beside his cot, towering above him. Damn, he thought. Crotch to the face.

“Whoa, what – !” he squeaked as Ronan grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. “Ronan, what the fuck are you –“

“I have no back rubs to offer,” Ronan explained with a low but dark voice that sent shivers down Peter's spine. “And there are no movies in this base. But now that you offer it so willingly, be sure I will grant you another of your wishes.”

Peter stared at Ronan with big eyes. Jesus fuck, he sure as hell didn't mean the tea...

“Wait, what the –“ Peter asked as Ronan dragged him over the floor. He wasn't rough, but it wasn't really tender either. Just the perfect way to be immensely arousing.

“Do you have any idea how long I've been wanting to do this,” Ronan cut him off as he harshly shoved him against the wall. It was the exact same spot he had shoved Peter against in the night Peter had almost shot him in the head. The realisation made Peter shiver once more.

“Domineering the head of the Resistance,” Ronan went on in his deep whisper, wrapping his hand around Peter's throat. “Making him moan and writhe beneath me. Making him plead with my name on his lips to be allowed to come undone. You have no idea how much I long for this.”

“Fuck,” Peter gasped as Ronan squeezed slightly and made his throat become tighter. He could feel Ronan's breath on his skin as he struggled to breathe himself and the soft touch made the hair on his body go erect with goosebumps. He really had had no idea Ronan wanted him so badly. Now he himself wanted Ronan even more than he had thought before.

“Fuck, Ronan, take me,” he grunted, digging his fingers into Ronan's skin where his hand had grabbed the Kree's lower arm in reflex of being strangled. “Take me now until I scream.”

Ronan growled in arousal and lifted Peter off of the floor. For a moment the Terran couldn't breathe because Ronan's grip was too tight. But then the Accuser slammed his own body against Peter's to hold him up and eased the grip of his fingers on his throat. Instead, he now grabbed Peter's thighs to place them around his waist and then held on to Peter's ass. Peter stared at him, their eyes almost exactly on one level.

“Oh my God, I want you so much,” Peter whispered, intoxicated by the deep purple of Ronan's eyes and the sharp shadows the dim light painted on his face. “I want you so much, Ronan, just take me.”

“Shut your damn mouth for once,” the Accuser snarled back before he snatched for Peter's lips with his mouth and devoured them in a searing kiss. Peter's entire body grew hot and he felt his blood rushing down to his groin, making his quickly growing erection throb. He should have probably pulled back to remind Ronan he needed preparation, but there was no way he would break the kiss right now. No way he would let Ronan's cool tongue go that had slipped into his mouth and was battling his own with passionate force.

He intended to wait until Ronan would break the kiss so he could tell him, but he had no chance to do so. Before Ronan did retreat, Peter could feel something pressing against his entrance already, cool and hard. He grunted in protest because he thought Ronan already wanted to penetrate him, but as the digit slipped inside of him despite his concern, he realised it was only a finger. It was even slick, though Peter had no idea how Ronan had done that. He hadn't even registered that one of Ronan's hand had left Peter's body.

Peter gasped as the Kree's finger moved into him until it couldn't go any further and then halted for a few seconds. He hardly had time to adjust before Ronan started moving it again already, first gently, then harder and faster until he had Peter squirming in heat. A second finger accompanied the first, then a third, and soon Peter was nothing more than a panting, sweating mess between Ronan's body and the wall. Ronan was still kissing him, but Peter couldn't kiss him back. He was too busy moaning and cursing and gasping, turning the kiss wet and sloppy.

Ronan groaned and grunted at him in return, obviously aroused by Peter's reaction to his finger-fucking. He retreated them far too soon, yet not soon enough, and the loss of the fulfilling feeling in his ass made Peter whine and wiggle in need.

“Please,” he wheezed. “Please, Ronan, just... fuck me... Just fuck me already, please...”

The Accuser gave a guttural groan and heaved Peter in a better position. His mouth was at Peter's jaw now, his neck, his ear, everywhere, leaving damp spots on his skin that prickled in the cool air. Then Peter felt the thick head of Ronan's erection prodding against his entrance and shivered with a pleading moan. Yes, that was what he wanted. That was what he wanted so badly right now.

Ronan's penis was shaped slightly differently than a human one, as Peter had noticed when he had seen Ronan naked. It was still phallic and resembling a human dick pretty much. But it had a pointier head and ended in three bulges, looking almost like an accordion. Also, Kree had no balls. But all of that didn't matter right now, all that mattered was that Ronan shoved that fucking thing inside of him already!

The tip of the head was even a bit slimmer than Ronan's three fingers, but Peter still gasped as it entered him. A thing he hadn't known about Kree dicks yet was that the self-lubed. What a handy function that was. Ronan must have used that lubricant for his fingers as well when he had prepped him.

The gasp quickly turned into a full-hearted moan as Ronan shoved the rest of his dick inside the tight tunnel of his ass, spreading him to the point of sweet, addicting pain. Peter had had sex with a man before, but never had something this thick entered his body. Damn, he would maybe have to drop out of the battle tomorrow because he couldn't walk anymore.

Again Ronan entered him up to the hilt right away and then stayed still for a moment, giving Peter a chance to get used to the feeling. This time he even granted him a few more seconds than he had before with his fingers. Very soon though he began to rock his hips shallowly, just enough to cause some friction. He was still mouthing Peter's general jaw region hard, scraping his teeth over the Terran's skin, biting his earlobe and grunting his lust against his flesh. All Peter could do was to draw in deep breaths and to dig his fingers into Ronan's broad back to bare the sensation. This was so fucking good, he could hardly cope with it.

As Ronan began to move a little more, he gave another hoarse moan and laid his head back against the wall. The Kree sped up quickly, pulling out further and ramming in harder, until he had reached a steady pace and force that was just driving Peter insane. The fast, slick drag of the thick shaft inside of his ass filled up his entire body, made it feel hot and tight, as if it was close to bursting. Peter moaned devotedly with every thrust, clawing at Ronan's back while the Kree left bite marks on his neck, groaning in pleasure himself.

“You have a tight body, Peter Quill,” Ronan rasped as he jerked his hips against Peter's ass with a slap. “A tight and hot body that it feels good to take. Take as I please, take as I want to, without you being able to even try and resist. You are mine, Resistance leader, and I will use you mercilessly.”

Peter gave a helpless whine, the filthy words flushing hotness right down to his groin. He wanted to be used so badly. Wanted Ronan to have his wicked way with him until Peter would collapse into a boneless heap, being fucked dry by the Kree's big cock.

“I'm yours,” he whimpered out of breath and pushed his lower body forward to meet Ronan's hips. “I'm yours, do what you want... Just do what you –“

Ronan pressed a hand on Peter's mouth and muffled all of his noise. “Shut up,” he growled darkly and snapped his hips forward hard. “All I want to hear from you is moaning and my name. Do you understand?”

Peter whined again, but apparently, that wasn't enough.

“Do you _underSTAND!”_ Ronan barked and gave an extra hard thrust that made Peter jerk in his arms with a muffled yelp. Since he couldn't reply with Ronan's hand on his mouth, he nodded instead, hoping that would be sufficient this time. Or did he?

“Good,” the Kree growled and eased the pressure on Peter's mouth. “Then let me hear what you got.”

With that, he completely withdrew the hand from Peter's face and in the same moment increased the force and speed of his thrusts immensely. He was ramming his dick inside Peter's ass with inhuman strength now and Peter screamed in surprise and ecstasy. The loud slaps of flesh against flesh almost drowned out his helpless moaning and whimpering as his body was absolutely overstrained by the harsh fucking.

The worst (or best?) part of all was that Ronan's dick had a subtle bulge at the perfect spot to rub against Peter's prostate, and the repeated high-speed friction against the sensitive spot was far too much for his system to handle.

His entire body went numb and Peter's senses were reduced to feeling unnatural heat everywhere, and the merciless stimulation of his sweet spot. The sensation was so overwhelming that he slumped against the wall like a wet sack, his gasping for air accompanied by helpless whines and moaning. He would have loved to fulfil Ronan's wish and moan his name for him, but it was completely impossible for him to form words right now. All he was still capable of was whimpering and holding on to Ronan weakly.

The Accuser himself was groaning and grunting heavily by now too, his hands grabbing Peter's hips so hard that they surely would leave bruises. The frantic hammering of his hips was almost a torture by now, sure to leave some bruises as well, but all Peter could feel was absolute bliss and complete satisfaction. The orgasm rapidly building inside of him was so hot and massive that he was sure he would explode with its release.

Ronan had gone back to mouthing at his ear, even though Peter could hardly sense it over the intensity of the fucking. He heard the Kree say something though, in a hoarse voice, heavy from arousal. Only when Ronan repeated it did the words make it through the lust-caused fog in his brain.

“My name,” Ronan demanded. “Say my name, Star-Lord.”

A pitiful moan was all Peter could muster. Ronan growled angrily at him.

“My _name_ , Star-Lord!” he insisted and rammed inside of him so hard that Peter choked on his own breath. Tears stung in his eyes and he sobbed, his body too overburdened with the intense pleasure to handle it.

“Ronan,” he managed to whisper, throat tight. “Ronan...”

“Louder!” the Accuser ordered. “I want you to say my NAME, Star-Lord!”

“RONAN!” Peter screamed as Ronan slammed his cock right against his prostate, rearing up against the Kree's massive chest. “RONAN, OH GOD, I'LL COME!!”

And he hadn't lied. Another well-aimed assault of his prostate basically catapulted Peter over the edge, his entire body convulsing heavily as his come shot all over their joined bodies. He shook and jerked with every spurt, tears now freely streaming down his face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, Ronan, oh God,” he chanted, wrapping his arms around Ronan's neck and shoulders as he rode out every last wave of his relief.

Ronan still moved his hips against him in hard, irregular thrusts and grunted deeply, obviously close himself. Shortly before Peter was completely spent, the Kree came as well with a throaty, drawn-out groan and snapped his hips against Peter hard.

A hot load of come shot deep inside Peter's core and made him whine with exhausted pleasure. Ronan's thick cock pulsed hotly in the tight tunnel of Peter's walls, pumping another wave of his release into the Terran with each jerk of Ronan's hips.

Compared to human standards, Kree apparently spilled a far greater amount of come, because Peter felt practically flooded with the hot, sticky liquid. It oozed past Ronan's massive shaft and out of Peter's used hole, dripping down to the floor beneath him. After what felt like an eternity, when Ronan was finally done and carefully let his cock slip out of Peter's body, his remaining seed ran out of the Terran in a healthy, warm flow. Peter only sighed at the feeling and shivered softly.

He was so thoroughly fucked through that he hang in Ronan's arms bonelessly, still trying to get back to normal breathing. His body was aching, but he hardly felt that underneath the bliss of the aftermath. Everything was perfect at the moment, now that Ronan had fucked out his brain.

Said Kree slowly set in motion now and carried Peter over to the bed to sink down on it together with him. Peter grunted lowly as Ronan arranged both their bodies on the horizontal surface until they had it comfortable enough to stay that way. The strong arms of the Accuser were still wrapped around him and cradled Peter's body safely against Ronan's broad chest.

“Now sleep a little more,” Ronan advised and gently ran a hand through Peter's sweaty hair. All of his harsh behaviour had vanished after the sex and suddenly he was very caring and tender. Peter couldn't say which side of him he enjoyed more. “Get some rest, I will wake you when it's time.”

Peter grunted again in agreement, already half asleep. Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to stay awake. Not after the hardcore fucking session he had just gone through.

Within seconds he was asleep, the warmth of Ronan's body surrounding him like a blanket.


	16. A Reason to fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey, look at that! A new chapter!  
> I know I'm super slow with updating my fics lately...  
> Partly, I can blame that on my exams, cause I'm in my finals phase right now.  
> But the other part is that all my writing energy currently goes into another project instead of all my Staraccuser stuff, and so I'm... well... uhm... slow ._.  
> I'm sorry...  
> But this is how I work, I write what I'm totally engaged in, or my writing is shit.  
> So I hope you can bare with me and my slow ass :')  
> Thank you, and thank you for reading <3

When Peter woke up this time, it was due to Ronan grabbing his shoulder and shaking him softly.

“Wake up,” the Kree demanded. And when Peter grunted sleepily, he repeated: “Peter. Wake up.”

In his state, it took Peter a while to remember this was no ordinary morning and that Ronan was not only waking him because it was time to get his ass out of bed and be a productive member of society. It was the morning of the day on which they awaited the great attack of the Halori and Peter needed to get up so that the inhabitants of this planet wouldn't all be blown to pieces.

Promptly, he was wide awake, jerking up. Just as promptly, his face twisted in pain and he groaned pitifully. 

“Damn, is there one piece of my body you haven't damaged,” he grumbled. “How am I supposed to fight under these conditions.”

“You didn't seem to be averse to me 'damaging your body' a few hours ago,” Ronan justified himself. He was already fully dressed, even his armour was already on. “Now get up and wash yourself. There is breakfast in the office. As soon as you're done, meet me in the big conference room. I'll be there with a few of my men to have one last meeting.”

“I'll hurry,” Peter promised. “Are they in sight yet?”

“Yes. They will be here in three to four hours.”

“Already? Fuck! Why didn't you wake me earlier!” Peter exclaimed and jumped out of bed. His ass hurt, he had bruises and bite marks all over his body, and dried come was sticking pretty much everywhere from his chest downwards. He definitely needed a shower, that much was certain. 

“There was no need to,” Ronan stated. “Unless you want to complain a bit longer, then you will need more time than I calculated.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He would have loved to punch Ronan teasingly, but the entire man was covered in Kree armour and it was certainly no good idea to punch that.“You know, if you give me a good-morning-kiss, I might be silenced and forget about the complaining,” he suggested instead. 

Ronan raised his brows and eyed him for a moment. “Is that a Terran ritual?” he asked then.

Peter had to laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, it's common after you fucked each other hard against a wall,” he claimed. “So come on and get it over with, who knows if we'll ever be able to kiss again.”

His own words hit him hard, right in the guts. Maybe this really would be his last kiss ever. Maybe this had been his last intimate encounter of his life. Not that he had ever been emotionally attached to one of his sex partners. Yes, he had gotten along with them, sometimes even greatly. He even had had a few loose relationships. But he had never been in love with someone or had considered staying with someone for a longer time.

But when he looked at Ronan, he thought that with him maybe it would have been different. He didn't know why, but this man in front of him was something very special and he spoke to something deep inside of Peter. Sure, he was very different from Peter, but somehow their different paths ended up at the same goal and in the end, they were very similar after all. 

Ronan was loyal, Ronan was strong, he was sexy and handsome and smart and skilled and he was also really good in bed. Competent. He sounded and smelled nice. And the warmth where his arms had cradled Peter at night was still lingering like a soft shadow on the Terran's body.

Maybe Peter was in love. Or at least willing to give falling in love a try. But maybe this wish would never be granted, because maybe they would die today. The thought almost made his eyes water.

He wanted to flee the situation and set in motion to walk over to the bathroom, but Ronan stopped him. He slung one arm around Peter's waist and swiftly pulled him close, pressing him against his armoured body. Peter gave a surprised sound as the Kree bent him backwards and then brought their mouths together in a searing, passionate kiss, a hot, slick battle of their tongues and lips, teeth scraping over skin. Peter completely forgot how to breathe, but he couldn't breathe anyway, so it didn't matter too much.

He relaxed into Ronan's touch and let the Accuser hold his weight while they kissed, until he got dizzy from the lack of air. Shortly before he would have protested, Ronan retreated and pulled Peter back on his own feet. The leader of the Resistance needed a moment to catch his breath and arrive back in reality.

“Wow...” he whispered and wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. “That's what I call a good-morning-kiss...”

“Are you satisfied then?” Ronan wanted to know.

“Definitely, yes,” Peter agreed. “More than satisfied actually, that was –“ the best last kiss anyone had ever received... “– really very satisfying indeed. Uhm. I'll go have a shower now. I'll be in the conference room in half an hour.”

Ronan nodded slowly, eyeing Peter again. “Good,” he replied in a tone that made Peter feel like Ronan was pondering about something. Then the Kree stirred and made his way over to the door. Peter looked after him until he was gone and then went over to the bathroom himself.

  
  


The cold water had been refreshing, but Peter still felt like he was in a trance when he walked down the corridors to the conference room. Somehow his brain had switched into security mode and he was down to his basic functions. It had been the exact same shortly after his mother's death, so he knew it was self-protection. He didn't try to fight it and just went with it. It was the best for him like that.

This time he was the only Terran in the room. His fellow Resistance members were out, preparing their part of the plan. Three Kree sat around the table, Ronan was standing in front of it and looked over when Peter entered. They greeted each other with a small but respectful nod.

Peter sat down with the other Kree and leaned back in his chair until he was comfortable. Ronan went on talking and Peter listened, playing with the zipper of his leather jacket as he did so. He heard and understood the Accuser's words, but couldn't really concentrate on them completely. The safe-mode he was in worked like a bubble and kept him on a certain distance towards everything that happened around him.

He focused a little more when Gamora called him over his communicator to tell him all their preparations were complete. Her voice tore deeply into Peter's heart once more because it reminded him that he might never see his friends again after the battle. 

He would meet them later, when this conference was over, that was already settled. Since he was the leader of the Resistance, he would, of course, work together with them, like it was the plan. He couldn't help the Kree directly and fight with them, that was completely impossible. They were on a whole different level of battle-tried and skilled, they had their ships and their weapons, and Peter had... well... nothing, really. So even though he would feel bad about leaving Ronan, he would still take his place among his friends and fight this war at their sides. 

After the call, he was oddly fidgety. He couldn't go back into his bubble and therefore couldn't relax anymore, as it had hit him once more that in only a short while, he would actually fight a real battle. There was so much on the line, so much that could go wrong, so much that wasn't _allowed_ to go wrong, and so much to lose. He wanted to jump ahead to after the battle to know how it all ended, because he couldn't take the wait any longer. This was horrible. How did Ronan stay so calm?

Ronan. Another thing that was suddenly making him highly agitated. Maybe it was the intensity of the situation, the need to hold onto something, or his nervousness driving him crazy that pumped him up like this, but he was absolutely certain right now that this man was the love of his life and he could never ever lose him. He wanted to jump up, wrap his arms around the Kree and kiss him until he was out of breath, just to savour the last minutes they still had together before the big fight. 

The longer the meeting went on, the harder it was for Peter to stay still. He had to actually force himself to remain seated and it was immensely hard to do so. He hardly understood a thing that was said anymore because he couldn't bring himself to focus. The moment Ronan ended the conference, Peter basically jumped up and rushed over to the door.

“Hey, can we have a quick talk?” he asked as he passed Ronan.

The Accuser eyed him with a surprised and confused expression, but nodded and followed him into the hallway. 

Peter looked around and then entered one of the rooms close by he was sure would be empty. As soon as Ronan shut the door behind him, Peter was on him and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. Ronan grunted in surprise, but didn't keep him from it.

Peter kissed him with all the longing and desperation he felt deep in his guts, until his tongue hurt and his jaw grew tired. Only then did he retreat, panting and wheezing, and looked up at the other man's purple eyes. They looked back at him in return, their beautiful pattern completely mesmerising the Terran. How could eyes be that gorgeous? They looked like a gem, crossed by black lines and spots and patterns. Everything about Ronan was just beautiful. Even the dry, grainy substance on Ronan's lower lip that tasted like ashes and metal was somehow addicting. 

“What was that about?” Ronan asked lowly, with Peter still pressed against his body. “Did you bring me here just to kiss me?”

“That sounds like a line straight out of a high school romance movie,” Peter commented before he was even aware. Before Ronan's frown could discourage him, he went on talking. “But yes, that was kinda the whole point of this action. I mean, one or both of us might die in this war and we might never be able to kiss each other again. So don't you think we should make the best of the last moments we certainly share?”

Ronan studied his face attentively for a few moments. Peter smiled at him fondly and tilted his head to underline his question. 

“There is no time for such a thing now,” Ronan finally explained to him. He sounded very calm and factual, but not repudiative. “If we do not fight wholeheartedly, we are sure to fail and to die in this war. We must focus on the task at hand to succeed, so we will be certain to survive and have all the time we want together after this.”

Peter frowned a little. Ronan had put a little damper on his excited affection, but at the same time, he had said something very interesting that took Peter a moment to process. “So... you want to still be together with me after the war?” he then asked. “Or did you just say that to sedate me?”

Ronan hesitated a moment before he replied: “I did not. I cannot promise I'll stay with you, but I have to admit that I feel drawn to you in a way I have never known and I am willing to give it a try.”

A smile slowly spread over Peter's entire face and practically split it in half. 

“You feel drawn to me?” he repeated. “You want to give us a try?”

“Yes,” Ronan confirmed with a nod. “I don't see why not.”

Peter giggled and snatched at Ronan's lips again. He didn't know why, but Ronan's words made him incredibly happy. Sure, he was probably over-hyping things. He and Ronan had been enemies, then allies, and then had slept with each other once. And yes, they got along very well and both of them seemed to have developed feelings for the other. But still, they've only really known each other for two days, and they were in an extreme situation that made things look different than under normal conditions. 

And yet he still felt his heart beating faster and his entire body filling with warmth and excitement at the thought that they would spend more time together after this war and stay with each other for the time being.

“God, I really want to give you a blowjob right now,” Peter mumbled as the kiss got a little heated. “Can't you get this stupid loincloth out of the way, I'm _dying_ to suck your cock.”

Ronan groaned, half aroused, half annoyed and softly shoved Peter to make him go away. But Peter only pressed against him harder and pushed his knee against Ronan's loincloth to make it move against the Kree's crotch.

“We don't have time for this,” Ronan tried to reason with the Terran 

“I promise it won't take long,” Peter reasoned back. “Come on, five minutes, Ro. Just let me suck your damn dick.”

“It's too much of a hassle to get the armour off,” Ronan tried it again. 

But Peter stuck to his guns. He just dropped to his knees with a grunt and lifted the loincloth up (damn, it was heavier than he had thought. No wonder Ronan was walking with spread legs when he was wearing that thing) before he shoved his hands up Ronan's thighs.

“Peter, not now,” Ronan insisted half-heartedly as the Resistance leader pulled down his thick leather pants. “There is no time for this.”

“Just five minutes,” Peter repeated. The loincloth was pressing heavily against the back of his head, but he didn't care. Instead, he softly closed his fingers around Ronan's cock and brought it up to his mouth.

“Peter!” the Kree hissed. 

But the Terran only hummed and ran his lips along the blue shaft in his hand until he had reached the tip. Then he engulfed the head and sucked the erection into his throat as deeply as he could possibly take it.

Ronan groaned. 

Peter kept his promise to make this a fast one and immediately began to move his head back and forth at high speed. Concomitantly, he brought his tongue up to press against the underside of Ronan's cock.

The Accuser groaned louder at this and leaned back against the wall behind him. His right hand shoved underneath the loincloth and into Peter's hair to close around the strands with just enough force to make Peter feel it without it hurting too much. Still, the looming of the pain that would undoubtedly occur once Ronan would tighten his grip made Peter all pumped and going at it even more enthusiastically. 

He knew Ronan could take more than a human, so he sucked on his dick harder than he would have dared with someone of his own kind. He was rewarded with heavy grunts and throaty moans and Ronan bucking his hips to meet Peter's movements. The Terran more than once almost choked on the thick member in his mouth that was pushing itself down his throat, but it only spurred him on even more.

By now, the blowjob was a sloppy mess of spit, the self-lubing secretion of Ronan's penis, and the Kree's precome that surprisingly tasted like mild vanilla cream. Peter practically devoured every inch that he had in his mouth, even though his jaw hurt and he could hardly breathe anymore. 

Wet sounds filled the room, accompanied by Ronan's aroused groans and Peter's relishing hums and grunts. The grip of Ronan's fist in Peter's hair became harder and harder and by now it hurt, but it was the kind of pain that turned Peter on. His right hand yanked down the front of his pants that had grown too tight and closed around his own erection that was aching for attention. He began to stroke and pump it artlessly just for the sake of the friction. The pleasure adding up to the sweet pain in his scalp and in his used jaw made him groan and shudder. Ronan groaned back and pushed his dick deep inside Peter's throat once more. Then he forced the Terran's head to stay still and began to fuck his mouth by himself with careful but powerful thrusts that made Peter's eyes water. Each of them was underlaid by a lustful sound coming from the Kree's throat.

It only took a few more seconds until a heavy shudder went through Ronan's entire body and he gave a strangled moan. Then a hot load of come flooded Peter's mouth and let him hum in surprise and excited enjoyment. It splashed against the back of his throat with every spurt and Peter swallowed it eagerly, all the while Ronan was softly rolling his hips against the Terran's face with blissed out grunts. Wave after wave of the hot, sticky liquid was shot in the back of Peter's mouth and ran down his throat, so much that Peter couldn't possibly take it all. It flowed past the thick shaft and the tight ring of Peter's lips and left a warm trail on his chin. He had almost forgotten how much come Ronan had pumped inside of him last night, but it surely felt even more when you had to swallow it down. Still, Peter sucked it all up with pleasure, frantically stroking his own cock in the meantime.

As Ronan's groans grew lower and fewer and the waves of release slowly ebbed away, he let the erection slip out of his numb mouth and drew in some deep, relieved breaths. Spit, come and self-lube made his lips glisten as he leaned his head against the side of Ronan's thigh and gasped for air. The Kree softly caressed the red locks of hair he still had his fingers sunken into, and gave some low, encouraging growls. They mixed with Peter's pleasured moans and whimpers until his own orgasm hit him hard like a freight train. With a loud moan, he shot his seed all over the floor and the wall behind Ronan's legs, leaving a pattern of white ribbons on the dark building material.

“Oh my God, that was exactly what I needed,” he mumbled as soon as he had calmed down far enough to talk. “And damn, your come tastes like custard, what the hell.”

Ronan didn't reply to that – probably because he didn't know what custard was – and instead softly tugged on Peter's hair to guide him out from under the loincloth. Peter did his lover a favour and pulled his pants back up, since he was down there anyway. Then he manoeuvred himself out from under the part of armour and got back on his feet. He was swaying a little because his legs had grown stiff, but he caught himself quickly and pulled up his own pants.

Ronan was looking at him with an expression Peter couldn't read, but as he smiled at him, the Kree pushed off of the wall and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Peter's lips. The way his hand cupped the side of Peter's neck and head as he did so made the Terran shudder.

“Thank you,” Ronan said in his dark voice and Peter in response had to smile a little wider. The Accuser could be so soft and tame if he wanted to. He was able to crush Peter with a single hand, but instead chose to be tender with him. That was sweeter than anything Peter could imagine.

“You're welcome,” he replied and patted the front of Ronan's armour. “Told you you would like it.”

“That I did,” Ronan confirmed. “And once more, I'm thanking you for it. But now it is time to go. Your friends are waiting. There are still things to take care of before the Halori arrive.”

“Myeah, you're right,” Peter nodded. “I just had to get that out of my system. Now I'm ready to go and full of enthusiasm! I had cock, now let's rock! Woohoo!”

Ronan stared at him with confused incredulousness, obviously completely weirded out by him. His lower lip stuck out again in this cute pout that could take on the one of any child with ease. Peter had to giggle and once again patted Ronan's chest.

“I'm sorry,” he apologised. “Nonsense like this means I'm actually in a good mood. Good enough to go out there now and kick some alien asses back into space. And to let you fuck me into oblivion right after that.”

“We'll see...” Ronan commented. “Before you leave to anywhere else, though, you should go and visit the bathroom two doors down the corridor. You need to clean yourself up.”

“Yeah, right, better,” Peter nodded. “Thanks, Ro.”

Ronan slightly raised his brow at this nickname and studied Peter's face for a moment. No one had probably ever dared to give Ronan a nickname and apparently Ronan was pondering right now what to think of it. The first time Peter had called him by anything other than his actual name, it had been to annoy him, but now it was more like tender teasing. Ronan decided to like the fact that Peter called him nicknames.

“Off now,” he demanded and gently shoved Peter towards the door. “Go meet your friends so you'll be ready when the Halori arrive. We will stay in contact.”

Peter smiled and nodded again. Then he stole one last kiss from Ronan's lips and scurried out of the room. The Kree looked after him for a while, even after he was already gone. 

Peter Quill. Star-Lord. Suddenly this war had another purpose than to just save Ronan's home planet from the Halori.

 


	17. One last Speech

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi theeeere!  
> Sorry I didn't post in so long. I'm in the middle of my finals and have been studying for... idk, the past 4 months? XD   
> Ahaha, what is life.  
> But here we go, finally a new chapter! :D
> 
> Also, if your name is Sarah and you use anon comments to bash my friends, call them names and insult them, AND have the audacity to speak for me and try to tell them that I don't like their writing (???!?!?!?), you are a sorry piece of trash and my fics are not for you. I hope your eyes catch on fire when you read them and that you regret the day on which you turned into an utter scumbag.   
> Also, Le Star-Lord... you DO realise you are the reason we all turned off anon comments, right? Stay away from me and my friends, you're horrible. My fics are not for you, either. Go away.

The Kree gave Peter a pod to fly over to where the Resistance had gathered. They had moved all their stuff out of the caves and down the hills because they needed more space than the Surface had to offer.

When Peter landed and got out of his pod, Groot waved at him with a smile from where he was standing with a group of Resistance members. Peter waved back and came over to them.

“Hey!” he greeted them. “How's it going?”

“It's going good,” Groot answered, which surprised Peter. The tall man hardly ever talked, he let others do the speaking. That he replied to Peter's question showed how much he had missed his friend – as did the warm hug he gave Peter right afterwards. As always, Groot smelled of soil and herbs which was a great combination to calm you down.

“That's great to hear,” Peter smiled and exchanged some back-pats with the other folks of the little group. “So you got the ships prepared and all?”

“Yes, the ships are prepared as we discussed it,” Groot nodded. He raised his arm and pointed at six Airforce fighters that were parked in a line not too far away from Peter and the others on the street that led to the Kree base. Peter had no idea which exact type of planes they were – he had looked it up when the Kree and the Resistance had met up to work out a plan, but he had already forgotten again. Weird official names with codes and numbers, who could remember such a thing – but they looked quite similar to the ship of the Halori. In the past hours, the Resistance had painted all of them white to also match the alien ships's colour. In a huge group and from a distance it would be hard to tell the real ships and the Airforce fighters apart. At least if you didn't look closely enough.

“Awesome,” Peter acknowledged with a nod. “In the distraction the fight between the Kree and the Halori will create, no one will be able to tell those are just fakes. At least I hope so. Otherwise, we would face some problems.

Groot nodded as well. That was his only reaction. He was no one to use unnecessary words.

“Where are the others?” Peter wanted to know. “It's time to get ready, the Halori will arrive here soon.”

“Rocket's in one of the ships,” Groot informed him. “He, Carry and Nat have been checking out their tech since they've been landed here.” 

The corners of Peter's mouth curled up in a smile at that. Of course, Rocket would check out the ships and their tech all day long. What else?

“So the three of them know how to fly them?” he asked further.

“Sure do,” Groot confirmed. “Plus Eliza and Gery.”

“Yeah, of course,” Peter nodded. “They both worked there, after all.”

Groot nodded as well. “Luckily, or we probably wouldn't have gotten a hand on those fighters that easily.”

Peter shrugged. “So, that makes five pilots then,” he stated. “And we have five ships. Perfect. And the teams have been set up, too?”

“Gamora organised everything,” Groot replied. “I'll go with Rocket, Drax will go with Carry, Gamora will go with Eliza, Vic will go with Nat and you'll go with Gery. The Kree helped us to make sure every cockpit is suitable and secure for two people and that we can use their frequencies to communicate with them and with each other, too.”

“Perfect,” Peter acknowledged. “I see you don't even need me as a leader to make excellent decisions.”

“You taught us well,” Groot smiled.

Peter grinned and shook his head. “Thanks, bud. You really do know how to make my self-aggrandising ass happy. Anyway, I guess we better all come together now to go through the plan one last time before the shit-show officially starts. I wanna make sure each and everyone of you sees my face one last time before we die.”

  
  


It was hard to give a speech this time. Sure, it wasn't a first that Peter thought it could be the last time that he saw his fellow Resistance members or his friends. It wasn't the first dangerous mission they went on. And, to be honest, this one probably wasn't even the scariest one they had ever been on. To be caught by the Kree had always been a really nasty threat, because it had promised torture, interrogation, bringing down the entire Resistance, a painful death. The Halori would most likely just shoot them on the spot. But this mission was the biggest one out there, the one determining the fate of Earth and all of humankind, the one that could bring an end to this nightmare and be the final success the Resistance had been fighting for for the past three years.

And that was exactly it. Peter looked at these people in front of him and he knew what they had endured, what they had suffered, what they had worked on and fought for, what they had lost and won and risked, and what their dreams and goals were. He had led them in this war, they had battled by his side, and today, all of this would forever be over. They would either win and see the result of their struggles and efforts, or they would all go under, everything they had accomplished so far being in vain. He could see the hope and the fear in their eyes, their determination and the understanding that today meant everything or nothing, and it tore his heart open. He couldn't let those people down, he couldn't let this battle be lost. He owed it to each and every one of his folks to make it out of there alive and see their planet finally being freed from suppression and slavery. If he couldn't achieve that, he rather wanted to die himself.

He didn't even remember what he said in his speech. All he remembered were the looks on his fellow Resistance member's faces and how it brought tears up in his own eyes. By the time he was finished, he wasn't the only one crying. But the cheers were louder than they had ever been before and Peter knew that if the Earth should fall today, it wasn't because the Resistance hadn't fought their hardest.

When Gamora wrapped her arms around him, Peter pressed her against himself and buried his face in her hair. “It's gonna be okay,” she promised him and stroked his back comfortingly. “It's gonna be alright, no worries.”

Peter merely grunted and sniffled, trying to pull himself together. It didn't help that after a moment, he felt a warm, firm body press against his back and smelled Groot's all too familiar scent of earth, herbs and flowers. 

“You're killing me,” he mumbled as he felt Drax's strong arms wrap around them too, making it turn into a group-hug. 

“Better us than some kind of weird-ass freaky lizard-aliens,” Rocket determined from somewhere beside Peter. A second later, he groaned loudly and told Drax to let go of him and not squeeze that tightly.

Peter had to laugh. “Way to kill the mood, Rocket. Way to kill the mood.” He let go of Gamora and waited until Groot and Drax had loosened their hugs so he could take a little step back to be able to see his closest comrades. “We're gonna rock this,” he announced, a smile on his lips that was a mixture of joy, confidence, and melancholy. “If anyone can save the world, it's gotta be us. This is the badass superhero show-down we've all been waiting for.”

“Not all,” Rocket corrected. “I imagined there to be dinosaurs with laser-eyes.”

“Please don't tempt providence,” Gamora sighed. “I don't want to get eaten by a laser-raptor just because you want the end of the world to be more epic.”

“A laser-raptor wouldn't eat you, they would _shoot_ you,” Rocket corrected with annoyance. “They have _laser-eyes._ ”

“Still not the way I want to go,” Gamora retorted. 

“No? What's _your_ favourite way of dying?” Rocket wanted to know in a provoking tone. “Just fall asleep in your comfy beddy-bed and never wake up again?”

“And what would be so wrong about that,” Gamora confronted him, whether this was her preferred way of dying or not.

Before Rocket could answer to that, Peter shoved between the two with raised hands and quickly interrupted their banter. “Doesn't matter how anyone wants to die,” he stated. “Cause it's not gonna happen. Okay? None of us will die. Now get your stuff ready and get into the fighters. I'm gonna call Ronan one last time to tell him we're ready and to ask whether they are as well. And then we'll have to wait for the Halori to show up. Which shouldn't take long anymore. So stay on your toes. Alright? Alright. Off we go then. No more arguing, no more group hugs. Whatever you have to say to each other is gonna have to wait til after the fight.”

 


	18. Things will get brighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, lovely people! <3  
> I hope you had a nice and safe start into 2018! :)  
> It's my New Year resolution to finish this fic this year!  
> I will be slow, but I'm determined! ò.Ó/)

“Hey, Mr. General Captain Accuser Sir,” Peter greeted Ronan as the connection was up. The grunt from the other end of the line made him grin widely. “It's your first Come-Mander speaking. How's it going on your end?”

“One more pun like this,” Ronan growled, “and I will find the time to come over and personally end you before the Halori can take that pleasure away from me.”

“Aw, that must be the nicest thing you ever said to me,” Peter cooed. “But for real now, how's it going? Cause we are ready over here.”

“Did everything work out as planned?” Ronan wanted to know.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Peter nodded. “The ships are painted and look quite Halori-like from a distance. Nobody will notice they are fake once the battle has started. We have five pilots and five co-pilots, so five teams. And everyone of us is ready to die, so... Best conditions for this undertaking, I'd say.”

It was quiet for just a moment. Then Ronan answered: “If everything goes well, none of you will die.” His words made Peter's heart ache heavily, but at the same time, he smiled. Ronan didn't want him to die. That was all he needed to hear.

“Believe me, none of us wants to,” he assured and unconsciously placed a hand on the portable communication device he had gotten from the Kree. It wasn't like touching Ronan, but it was okay.

“I am glad to hear that,” Ronan grumbled. “Everything is going as planned on our side, too. Every Terran under our command -” meaning every slave or renegade “- is secure. The defence systems are operational. The ships are ready. Our troops are prepared. As soon as the Halori arrive, we can strike.”

The experienced tone of Ronan's voice as he was listing all these military steps was making Peter smile softly. He was fully in his element right now, talking about war strategies and battle preparations like this. It was nice to hear him being so comfortable and confident, but, to be honest, it was also pretty arousing to be reminded of his impressive skill-set.

“Now, I'm glad to hear that,” Peter announced and cleared his throat to get out of his state of appreciation and back into reality. “Any word from other Resistances somewhere?”

Before his friends had left the base the other day, they had made a worldwide call over the Kree's signal in hope other Resistances or similar organisations of escaped Terrans would hear it. Firstly so they could get to a safe place somewhere in case the Halori would really drop some bombs, secondly so they wouldn't try and thwart the Kree's plans anymore so the preparations for the strike against the Halori wouldn't be disturbed, thirdly because maybe they wanted to help somehow. 

“Yes, we heard back from a little group of absconders in North-Africa who actually helped the located Kree base in setting up the defence mechanisms and by calming down protests and riots among the Terran workers. There was also a signal from northern Europe, but nothing else came out of that.”

“Hm,” Peter hummed. “Well, better than nothing, I'd say. We did what we could. If anyone is still out there, we can't help them anymore now, sadly.”

“No, we can't,” Ronan confirmed. He sounded neither sad nor happy about this fact. Then again, they weren't his own people out there, defenceless and without a clue what was coming. Peter swallowed that burning thought away.

“Alright then,” he said. “Seems like we're ready. The Halori can come.”

“They will,” Ronan assured him. “They are already in sight. In maybe half an hour, they will arrive here.”

Peter's heart jumped and for a second, he felt dizzy. Half an hour. In only half an hour, they would all fight for their lives. This was crazy. This was insane. Suddenly, he felt like he would panic.

“Peter?” he heard Ronan's voice over the speaker. “Are you there?”

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled, trying to focus on a spot in front of him to relax, but the world was spinning. “Yeah, I'm – …”

“Peter. Listen to me. Listen to my voice.”

“I'm – ...”

“Sit down somewhere. Steady yourself. Do you hear me? Listen to me, Peter. Steady yourself somewhere.”

“I am...” Peter muttered and slowly reached out for the Airforce fighter plane standing right next to him. He leaned heavily against it, closing his eyes. The darkness around him was still spinning.

“Take a deep breath,” Ronan advised. “As deep as you can. Breathe in and hold it, then breathe out. Go on. Breathe.”

Peter breathed. He inhaled for four seconds, then held it for three seconds more before he slowly blew the air out of his nose. He repeated it right afterwards, the communicator shaking in his hand.

“Are you still with me?” Ronan asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Peter replied, sounding a bit calmer than before. 

“Good. Now talk to me. Tell me something. A story. Anything. I'm listening.”

“Hm...” 

Peter thought about it for a second. But his mind was empty. He was so focused on trying to not think about the Halori that his entire brain was occupied. There was no story whatsoever coming up in his head. Instead, before he even fully realised it, he started singing to himself.

“O-o-h, child, things are gonna get easier... O-o-h, child, things will get brighter...”

It was quiet on the other end of the line.

“O-o-h, child, things are gonna get easier. O-o-h, child, things will get brighter.”

The song began to calm Peter down. As he kept on singing, his voice became more stable and his volume increased until he was singing with full dedication. 

After he had repeated both verses of the song, he stopped and took another deep breath. Ronan still didn't say anything, but low noises told Peter that the connection was still up.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “Singing actually makes me less nervous.”

“... It's alright,” Ronan stated after a short moment. “As long as it soothes you, you can sing all you want.”

Peter smiled softly. “You liked it, huh?” he asked. “Terran music is the shit, man. After all this is over, I will show you my mum's mixtape. Well, it's not the original tape anymore, I listened it to death. It's a newer copy. But the songs are still the same, of course, and I think you might enjoy them.”

Ronan grunted unwillingly, but Peter grinned. 

“When all this is over,” the Kree promised, “I will have better things to do than to listen to your audible Terran entertainment.”

“Trust me, you won't,” Peter claimed. “Nothing is better than audible Terran entertainment. Except maybe dance movies. Cause they also have visual entertainment along with the music.”

Ronan snorted. “I see you're back to being yourself,” he said. “Good. Can I rely on it staying this way?”

“I hope so,” Peter answered, still smiling. The fact that Ronan had taken care of him and had obviously worried about his well-being was replacing his panic with fondness and affection. Ronan really was an okay guy when he cared about you. “I will be okay, Ro. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Waiting for an inevitable battle can be troubling for the mind,” was all Ronan said to both the nickname and the gratitude. “Make sure to not let it overcome you again, so you will be focused when the battle starts.”

Peter nodded, even though Ronan couldn't see that. “I will,” he assured. “I'll go back to my friends now and let them distract me a little. Gery, my team partner, is a good guy, we will help each other through this.”

“Good,” Ronan replied. “Then go now. Remember we will be right behind you, covering you. There is nothing you have to fear.”

Again, a warm fire bloomed in Peter's heart and drew up the corners of his mouth into an appreciating smile. “Thanks, Ro,” he said. “Take care of yourself though too, okay?”

“Of course,” Ronan promised him. “After all, I still need to pay you back for your very skilful mouth. It really is put to better use when it is not talking.”

Now Peter had to laugh. “So you're a sucker for my sucking, huh? I _told_ you you would like it!”

There was another silence at the other end of the line and Peter could imagine very well how annoyed Ronan must look right now. It made him giggle even harder. 

“I promise you that I will give you as many blowjobs as you want when this is over,” he grinned, suppressing his laughter. “And then we can work our way through the ancient sexual traditions of your culture. The Kreemasutra or something. How does that sound?”

“... I have no idea what you are talking about,” Ronan growled through the speaker. “But I will make sure to show you my own tradition of sexual punishment for your unnerving blabbering.”

“Oooo, sounds amazing,” Peter sing-songed. “I can't wait to let you accuse my ass~”

Ronan grunted and Peter laughed. Before he could say another thing, his Kree lover grumbled: “This is enough nonsense for now. I will see you at the end of this” and hung up. Peter made sure to give him some loud kissing-noises before the connection was cut off.

 

 


	19. Indepence Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeey, hellooooooooo, this fic is still aliiiiiiiiiiiiive, how is it going!  
> I had this chapter lying around here for a while, but I forgot to ever get it betad.  
> So now I will just publish it un-betad.  
> I'm sorry in advance for the mistakes.  
> But I thought, after half a year, it would be better than nothing :'D  
> So here you go!  
> Enjoy!

Time went by agonisingly slow. It felt like an eternity until the Kree finally informed them over the communicators that the Halori had arrived. And yet it was also far too soon. Peter sat behind Gery, his team partner in the pilot seat, and had strapped himself securely against the backrest. Normally, the cockpit was only meant for one person, but the Kree had helped the Resistance to make it possible for two people to fly in here safely by adding security belts and a second seat-slash-platform behind the backrest of the actual pilot seat. No manoeuvre or turbulence would harm Peter. It was still uncomfortable as hell.

When a Kree voice came over the newly installed communication system to tell them that the Kheena were down, the nervousness and agitation Peter had felt over the past 30 minutes came to a painful peak. At the same time, he suddenly felt pumped up to the limit. This was it. This was their chance to save Earth once and for all. Finally, they could really do something and protect their home planet. This was what it had all come down to.

Gery prepared their fighter. He had been an Airforce pilot, just like Eliza who was flying with Gamora. They had escaped their forced working place under the Kree together with four other people, but only them two had made it to the Resistance safely. The others had been caught or killed on the way. 

“Are you ready to kick some alien asses back where they came from?” Gery asked from behind Peter's back.

“Man, I was born ready for this,” Peter replied with a tired smile, even though Gery couldn't see it anyway. But unconsciously, Peter dug his fingertips into his legs to keep himself steady.

The truth was he wasn't ready at all. Not only because he was nervous or anxious, oh no. He _was_ nervous and anxious, but he had been many times before in his life as a Resistance member. But this time, so much depended on it. This time, it was either win or die for the entire human race. And the price for their freedom and victory was genocide. If the human race wanted to survive, they had to kill off all the Halori. That was a really fucked up situation.

Of course, the Halori would commit genocide without asking twice just to land a big hit against the Kree. They would blow Earth up without concern, just so the Kree's army was destroyed, and would wipe humanity from existence. That made killing the Halori an act of self-defence in a way. But it was still fucked up.

The only option though to prevent this genocide was to get the Kree off of Earth so the Halori wouldn't blow the planet up. But it would have taken more than four days for them to pack all their stuff and leave, and also get far enough away from Earth to have it be outside the danger zone. Also, they didn't have a battle strategy ready for this scenario and to risk an improvised fight with the Halori was not what they wanted. What they wanted _was_ genocide, to kill the Halori once and for all, and the Resistance had no chance to do anything about that. They couldn't ask the Kree to please leave, because they wouldn't do that. Offering them their help and fighting alongside them was the only chance both of them had to survive the Halori attack. Neither of them was able to do this alone.

Still, Peter felt guilty and he also felt like the weight of the literal world was pushing down on his shoulders. If they failed, all of them would die. That was just a liiiiittle too much pressure to cope with easily.

But right now was not the time to think about all of this. He had to focus now, so he would _not_ fail and they would _not_ all die. So, with all the willpower he could muster, Peter shoved those terrible thoughts away and instead concentrated on what had to be done.

The plan was simple: The Great Mother had said that the Halori would start their attack at a certain point, overrun it, and then systematically bomb the entire planet bit by bit. To make sure the Halori would aim their first attack at an advantageous spot and come down somewhere near the Resistance, so it wouldn't take the Airforce fighters hours to arrive at the fight, the major Kree base Ronan was operating from was sending out a bunch of encrypted signals that the Halori would hopefully receive, and that would hopefully draw them to this exact location. The Kree would swarm the skies before the Halori would even arrive, to show them they were prepared for the attack and would fight them. Hopefully, then the Halori would refrain from just randomly dropping some bombs on the planet and would instead focus on destroying the Kree.

In case any bombs _would_ drop, the Kree had put up security shields over all their bases and the factories and other working places so that the human slaves would be safe. Peter had insisted on that and Ronan had agreed without complaint. 

The Kree would try and distract the Halori without risking a real fight. The big war-ships they had were mostly safe against the Halori fighters, but they couldn't really do any damage to the fighters either, as those were extremely well shielded. The Kree had smaller fighting pods that could destroy the fighters, but those were vulnerable against their fighters in return as well. And the Kree didn't want to lose any of their men in a simple distraction mission.

Instead, it was on the Resistance to kill the Halori off. With the camouflaged Airforce fighters that looked a lot like Halori fighters, they would fly over to the five big Kheena. The Kree had to make sure the Kheena stayed close enough to Earth so the Airforce fighters could still operate around them. That was why they could not take this battle out to space.

Once the Resistance had reached the Kheena, they would sneak inside and set up the bombs. Ronan was absolutely certain that it was the Kheena and not the fighters that carried the bombs, as the fighters had no space on them whatsoever to carry anything but the integrated weaponry. Rocket had built a few time-bombs that would give the Resistance members enough time to get off of the Kheena in time before the bombs would detonate. Because as soon as they detonated, they would blow up the entire ship. And with them all of the five Great Mothers.

Without the Great Mothers, the Halori were doomed to go extinct. Only the Great Mothers could give birth to other Halori, including other Great Mothers. That was why the Halori's only purpose was to take care of their Great Mothers. They centred around her like planets around a sun, she was like a big brain to a body that was made out of several components. Without a single Great Mother alive, the Halori would go headless. As soon as the Kheena were destroyed, it would be easy for the Kree to hunt the Halori out to space and shoot them all down outside Terra's orbit. With the Great Mothers destroyed, it would hopefully be less of a risk for the vulnerable Kree pods to start an actual attack. At least that was the plan. There were several things that could go wrong with it.

For example, the Halori could realise that the Airforce fighters the Resistance was trying to get to the Kheena with were just fake and no real Halori fighters. Or the Resistance members could be found and killed once inside the Kheena. The bombs could malfunction or not blow the Kheena up as planned. There was a realistic chance one or more of the Kheena would not be destroyed. In that case, the Kree had to battle the Halori without any advantage. Chances would be bad for Terra and the Kree in that case. Which did not help to make Peter feel any better about this entire enterprise.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his fingers around the sides of his seat and held on tight. Only a little more time and this would all be over. To a good or to a bad account, but it would all be over. Peter felt like his heart was sinking down to his stomach, leaving a burning trail through his entire insides.

A Kree voice came over the speakers again, telling them that the Halori fighters were by now swarming out of the Kheena. That meant it was time for the Resistance to start the Airforce fighters and mingle with them. Their mission had now officially begun.

  
  


“This feels like _Independence Day_ ,” Peter half-heartedly joked behind Gery. “You know, with invading the big mother-ship to blow it all up? Only that we're not using a virus, but bombs. But we _are_ using their own weapons against them somehow.”

“You watch too many movies, Quill,” Gery stated from the pilot seat. 

Peter chuckled nervously and opened his eyes. He couldn't see much. Only the sky and the clouds, rushing by far too quickly for his own taste. He remembered how euphoric he had felt when he had flown the Kree pod up into space, thrilled by its speed and by how fast everything had passed him. Back then, he had felt hopeful, had been convinced the Halori would save them from the Kree. But now? Now he was in love with the leader of the Kree himself and on a breakneck mission to blow up a ship. He still had hope, of course. It pulsed inside his chest like a second heart, rich and colourful and deafening, feeding his veins with the readiness it took to take on this ridiculous task. But it also reminded him how easily he could fail, how easily their planet and all of his loved ones could die today, and that even if they won, so much would be lost.

_At least you will see your mother again if you die_ , something inside of him whispered. 

The thought stung Peter's heart, mostly because it felt comforting to him. Yes, _he_ would have something to look forward to when he died. But maybe the others hadn't. And he was not allowed to fail them. He shouldn't be allowed to find something positive in his death.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, feeling hot tears sting against his lids. He felt so _churned_. Nothing had ever felt as big as this, not even stealing the Kree's war plans and delivering them to the Halori. Nor escaping the Kheena and turning himself in to the Kree. Everything had been manageable until now. But this... This...

“We're almost there,” Gery informed him with an earnest tone. 

“Are the others with us?” Peter asked and was surprised at how stable his own voice sounded.

“Let me check,” Gery requested. 

Peter heard him contact the other Airforce fighters over their private signal, asking for their position. Rocket reported back first, telling them he and Groot were close to their Kheena already and ready to board it. Gamora and Eliza were a bit behind, heading for their Kheena which was further away. Drax and Carry, as well as Vic and Nat, had the longest routes and would take a bit longer to arrive.

“We need to wait,” Peter told Gery. “We all need to enter the Kheena simultaneously. If one of the teams gets caught, the Kheena will warn each other. If they seal the other Kheena off before they have been boarded by us, we won't be able to find a way in there and set up the bombs anymore.”

Gery nodded and repeated what Peter had just said to the other pilots. They should keep their distance to the Kheena until everyone was ready to board. They couldn't afford to attract anyone's attention before that. If one of them got caught, that would be a massive problem.

Peter tried to control his breathing while Gery manoeuvred their fighter through the Halori ships, staying close to the Kheena while simultaneously trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. The real Halori fighters were swarming all around the Kheena and the Kree ships, trying to keep the latter away from their mother-ships. The Kree half-heartedly fired at them or the Kheena, knowing fully well that they couldn't do much damage to them. They just tried to keep the Halori's attention on them, so no one would notice the Airforce fighters nearing the Kheena. Ronan had promised he would also make sure to keep threatening the Great Mothers over the communication devices so they would be occupied too and hopefully not take any notice of the Resistance.

Ronan. Peter yearned to talk to Ronan. To hear his calm, deep, soothing voice and find comfort in the fact that they were connected somehow. Knew what the other was doing. Knew how the other one felt.

_ Jesus Christ, Peter, get your shit together _ , he thought and gritted his teeth.  _You are far too emotional ever since you woke up. This guy fucked you once and now you are so out of your own head that you will screw up this entire mission._

He sighed to himself. He _was_ out of his head and he should finally get himself to focus. Fear, melancholy and pessimism had no space here right now. He needed to concentrate, needed to believe in himself and the others, and needed to accomplish this stupid mission!

The intercom crackled and Peter heard Vic's voice reporting that they now were close to their Kheena. Only a few minutes later, Carry reported the same thing. 

“Alright, I think we can go in now,” Gery stated, but it half was a question directed at Peter.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Peter confirmed, giving the unofficial order to board. “I think we're all ready, so let's do this.”

“That's the Peter I know,” Gery smiled and pressed the button on the communication device. “Boys and girls, our leader gave the order,” he joked, even though it actually was the truth. “We'll all board our Kheena now. I repeat: We'll all board our Kheena now. Can you copy?”

They all could copy. Wishing each other good luck for the last time before the mission really started, they all headed for their Kheena and to the hatch of each of their hangars. 

 


End file.
